massing
for a surprise attack? Grant had no means of telling.

Then to his ears came the most welcome soft roar of muted rockets. A
huge shape swept over the high wall, soared directly over the Gorm,
and nestled down in little jets of flame until the stern rested on the
solid rock, and the bow swung idly over the brilliant pool.

"Keep your gun trained on this bird," Grant told Nona swiftly. She
nodded. The air-lock door on the ship was already sliding open. A
Ganymedan, space-suited, was coming through. He saw them, tried to
spring back into the shelter of the ship. But a blue ray stabbed out
and caught him in mid-flight. There was a spatter of dust, and the
hapless creature disintegrated into thin air.

"Sorry I had to do it, but I couldn't afford to let him give the
alarm. Now for the dirty work, Nona. You hustle this big bully into
the ship, and keep him covered. I'll be right along."

The girl cast him a look of anxiety. "What do you intend doing?"

"Don't worry," he assured her; "I won't get hurt."

After he had seen them within the liner, he got to work. First he
brought out from the ship coils of wiring and jumbles of instruments.
He took them over to the edge of the Gorm, to the place where he had
seen Miro pull the switch, and for the next ten minutes was busy
connecting wires, attaching batteries, putting his instruments in
place. Then, when he was satisfied that everything was ready, he
reversed the switch. The great space-ship, some fifty feet away, was
already trembling in every line.

Just as he was rising to sprint for the slowly moving liner, he heard
a smooth rushing noise. He whirled. The slide was opening in the wall.
A mob of Ganymedans were pouring through. They paused uncertainly a
moment, then, as they spied him, there was a concerted rush forward.

Grant acted quickly. Already the space-ship was off the ground,
soaring upward. He had not an instant to spare. He dove toward it. The
mob yelled, and raced forward to cut him off. His pencil-ray was
useless--the distance was too great for its limited range. But then,
that applied equally to the weapons of the Ganymedans.

* * * * *

The blue rays snapped forward at him angrily, but fell short. The ship
was moving faster now. It was already several feet off the ground.
Grant's heavy space-suit impeded his progress. The charging Ganymedans
were dangerously close now. That last beam had missed him by inches.
T