ercutian patrol was shambling along,
heavy-gaited.

"Come on, Grim, let's get out of here," said Hilary.

They flattened like shadows against the wall, slunk stealthily through
radiating streets. As much as possible they kept their eyes away from
the sickening sights, the poor burned bodies of their fellow men.
Steadily they headed for the branch local conveyors as being less
likely to be under surveillance.

The Ramapos was their destination. Hilary went dully, listlessly. Joan
was gone again; this time he could not possibly know where. Every step
he took though, seemed to lead him farther away from her. His glazed
eye searched the shining skies as he stumbled along. Not a sign
anywhere of the _Vagabond_. Only the hateful swift-moving Mercutian
fliers.

It was only Grim's insistence that kept him going. The secret gorge
was the headquarters of the revolt, he argued. If the fools he had
left in charge hadn't thrown their men recklessly on New York against
his instructions to join that last foolhardy heroic attack, there was
still a chance of salvaging the revolution.

CHAPTER X

_Back to the Ramapos_

It was dark when they reached the first swellings of the Ramapo Range.
It was dangerous to try and make their way through tangled brush and
mountain trails. All night they camped on the bare ground, sleeping
fitfully, cramped cold, shivering. They dared not light a fire; it
would draw instant unwelcome attention.

When dawn came, they were on the move, glad to stretch their sodden
limbs. Unerringly Grim homed for the invisible cleft. Nothing stirred
in the forests, even the birds seemed gone. The fog had lifted, the
sun blazed forth in unclouded majesty. The damp on them dried quickly.

But Grim shook his fist at the unwitting orb.

"Damn that weather machine," he growled. "Breaking it seems to have
made matters worse. Even the regular midnight shower has stopped. I'd
give ten years of my life for the sight of a cloud."

"It will never rain again," Hilary said wearily. "It has forgotten
how."

The bright sunny sky seemed a brazen hell to the footsore Earthmen. It
mocked and jeered at them with sparkling waves of warmth.

Before them was an unbroken mass of underbrush. The next instant they
were on the brink of the chasm.

"They haven't found us yet," said Morgan, surveying the looped end of
the rope ladder. They climbed swiftly down the swaying rungs. The rock
slanted with them, turned sharply an