"I knew what had happened, sir. Some damned Mercutian flying patrol
had spotted us with their search beam. I didn't wait for more, but
scrambled out of the dugout as fast as I could. Up above I saw a
one-man flier slanting down for me. It was a-sparkle, ready for
another ray. I came down the ladder in a hurry, I tell you."

The man was panting, white-faced. Someone cried: "It's all over;
they'll smother us in now."

Hilary swung around. It would take very little to start a panic.

"Stop that," he said sharply. "Now is no time to play the coward." He
turned again to the sentinel.

"A one-man flier, you said?" he reflected aloud.

"Yes, sir," the other answered, "and I'll bet he's calling for help
right now."

"That's just what I intend putting a stop to," said Hilary grimly. He
shifted his gun to an easier drawing position, swung himself aloft on
the ladder. "Take over, Grim, until I come back," he shouted down.
"If I don't, send others up to get that Mercutian."

"Come down," Grim yelled after him, alarmed. "I'll go up; you're the
leader here."

"That's why it's my job. So long."

The men stared up after the tiny ascending figure, lumps in their
throats. They would die gladly for Hilary Grendon now; he was proving
himself. Grim fumed and waited. Hilary had disappeared above the
angled bend.

CHAPTER XI

_Driven from Cover_

Far overhead, Hilary climbed swiftly. He realised the seriousness of
their situation. Let that Mercutian flash his message to Headquarters
and there would be a swarm of fliers upon them within an hour's time.
They would be caught like rats in a trap, without a chance for their
lives.

He gritted his teeth and swung himself up the faster. He turned the
bend. There was the dark sky above, faintly spangled with stars. The
flier was not in sight. Hilary stifled an imprecation. If he had taken
off, they were doomed.

He moved more cautiously now, stepping gingerly from rung to rung up
the swaying ladder. The cleft widened; he was near the top. He paused.
There was not the slightest sound. But Hilary was taking no chances.

With infinite slowness he raised his head over the matted underbrush
that masked the entrance. For the moment he could see nothing in the
pitchy blackness. Then a dim shape loomed to one side. From within it
there came a tiny hum, intermittent, almost inaudible.

Hilary knew what that was: a transmitter. Even then the fatal message
was winging through th