in his
head. But he ducked and blocked awkwardly with the one arm that held the
package Kreiss had given him, while the other hand that gripped the
pistol was twisted behind him.

No chance here for clever blocking, no room for quick foot-work; weight
was telling, and the weight was all in favor of his big opponent.

Chet knew that possession of the gun was vital. Flashingly it came to
him that Schwartzmann had not fired: his pistol, then, was lost, or he
was out of ammunition. And now Chet's hand that held the gun with the
six precious charges of detonite was fast in the clutch of a huge paw,
and the pain of that twisted arm was sending searing flashes to his
brain.

[Illustration: _With the free hand he shot over a blow._]

A twist of the body, and the pain relaxed. He dropped the leaf-wrapped
package to the ground, and, with the free hand, shot over a blow that
brought a grunt of pain from Schwartzmann and a gush of blood that
smeared the black, hairy face. He took one stiff jolt himself on his
half-averted head that he might counter with another to flatten that
crushed and painful nose.

* * * * *

For one brief instant Schwartzmann's free hand was raised protectingly
to his face so contorted with rage; for one brief instant, below that
big fist, there showed the contour of a jaw; and, with every ounce of
weight that Chet could put into the swing, he came up from under in that
same instant with a smashing left that connected with the exposed jaw.

The hand that gripped his gun-hand did not let go completely, but Chet
felt the steel-hard rigidity of that arm relax, and abruptly he knew
that he could beat this man down if he once got clear. He didn't need
the gun; he needed only to get both hands free. And, despite the arm
that clung and swung with his, he managed to wrench himself into a
sideways throw of his whole body at the instant he unclosed his hand.
The slim barrel of the detonite pistol described a flashing arc through
the clear air and clattered along the lava underneath a big shining
surface of metal.

And then, in a breath-taking flash of understanding, Chet knew.

He knew he was beside the ship: he saw the closed port and the
self-retracting lever that would open it, and he saw it through clear
air where no taint of the green gas was apparent.

He was certain that he had been fighting for an interminable time, yet
before him the air was clear. It was impossible,