f unearthly beasts could hold
him from the great adventure. But Chet?--he must not lead Chet to his
death.

"Of course," he said slowly, "you've had one run-in with the brutes."
Again he paused. "We don't know where they come from, but my guess is
from the Dark Moon. They may be too much for us.... If you don't feel
like tackling them again--"

The figure of Chet Bullard sprang upright from the cot. His harsh
voice told of the strain he had endured and his reaction from it.

"What are you trying to tell me?" he demanded. "Are you trying to
leave me out?" Then at the look in the other's eyes he grinned
sheepishly at his own outburst.

And Walter Harkness threw one arm across Chet's shoulder as he said;
"I hoped you would feel that way about it. Now let's make some plans."

Provisions for one year! Even in concentrated form this made a
prodigious supply. And, arms--pistols and rifles, with cases of
cartridges whose every bullet was tipped with the deadly detonite--all
this was brought from the nearest accessible points. They landed,
though, in various cities, keeping Schwartzmann's ship as
inconspicuous as possible, and made their purchases at different
supply houses to avoid too-pointed questioning. For Harkness found
that he and Bullard were marked men.

The newscaster in the Schwartzmann cabin brought the information. It
brought, too, continued reports of the menace in the upper air. It
told of patrol-ships sent down to destruction with no trace of
commander or crew; and a cruiser of the International Peace
Enforcement Service came back with a story of horror and helplessness.

Their armament was useless. No shells could be timed to match the
swift flight of the incredible monsters, and impact charges failed to
explode on contact; the filmy, fibrous masses offered little
resistance to the shells that pierced them. Yet a wrecked after
compartment and smashed port-lights and doors gave evidence of the
strength of the brutes when their great sinuous bodies, lined with
rows of suction discs, secured a hold.

"Speed!" was Chet Bullard's answer to this, when the newscaster
ceased. "Speed!--until we find something better. I got clear of them
when they caught me unprepared, but we can rip right through them now
that we know what we're up against."

* * * * *

He had turned again to the packing of supplies, but Harkness was held
by the sound of his own name.

Mr. Walter Harkness, la