staring curiously at Artur. "Is
there trouble brewing?"

"I gather that there is, but we'll talk about that in a moment--in the
navigating room." I introduced Artur and Correy as we hurried forward,
and as soon as the door of the navigating room had closed on the three
of us, I turned to Artur with a question.

"Now, where will we find the enemy, these Neens? Have you any idea?"

"Surely," nodded Artur. "They come from their own country, to the
south. The frontier is the narrow strip of land that connects Libar
with Neen, and since the alarm has been sounded, the enemy is already
at the frontier, and the forces of my people and the enemy are already
met."

"I don't know anything about the set-up," put in Correy, "but that
sounds like poor management to me. Haven't you any advance guards, or
spies, or outposts?"

Artur shook his head sadly.

"My people are not warlike. We who spread His teachings have tried to
warn the masses, but they would not listen. The land of the Neens was
far away. The Neens had never risen against the Libars. They never
would. So my people reasoned."

"And you think there is fighting in progress now?" I asked. "How did
the word come?"

"By phone or radio, I presume," said Artur. "We are in communication
with the frontier by both methods, and the signal of the lights has
been arranged for generations. In the day, all lights were to flash on
three times; at night, they were to be darkened three times."

* * * * *

So they had telephones and radios! It was most amazing, but my
questions could wait. They would have to wait. Correy was shuffling his
feet with anxiety for orders to start action.

"All right, Mr. Correy," I said. "Close the ports and ascend to a
height that will enable you to navigate visually. You are sufficiently
familiar with the country to understand our objective?"

"Yes, sir! Studied it coming down. It's that neck of land that
separates the two continents." He picked up the microphone, and started
punching buttons and snapping orders. In twenty seconds we were
rushing, at maximum atmospheric speed, toward the scene of what, Artur
had told us, was already a battle.

Artur proved to be correct. As we settled down over the narrow neck of
land, we could see the two forces locked in frenzied combat; the Libars
fighting with fine military precision, in regular companies, but
outnumbered at least five to one by the mob-like masse