ould haunt him
forever. Then he stood up.

The flying machine banked, turned, and swept toward him, and a smoking
thing dropped toward the earth. It was a gas bomb like those that had
wiped out the Ragged Men. It would strike not ten yards away.

"Your mask!" snapped Tommy.

He helped Evelyn adjust it. The billowing white cloud rolled around
him. He held his breath, clapped on his mask, exhaled until his lungs
ached, and was breathing comfortably. The mask was effective
protection. And then he held Evelyn comfortably close.

For what seemed a long, long while they were surrounded by the white
mist. The cloud was so dense, indeed, that the light about them faded
to a gray twilight. But gradually, bit by bit, the mist grew thinner.
Then it moved aside. It drifted before the wind toward the tree-fern
forest and was lost to sight.

The flying machine was circling and soaring silently overhead. As the
mist drew aside, the pilot dived down and down. And Tommy emptied his
automatic at the glittering thing which drew it. There was a crashing
bolt of blue light. The machine canted, spun about with one wing
almost vertical, that wing-tip struck the marsh, and it settled with a
monstrous splashing of mud. All was still.

Tommy reloaded, watching it keenly.

"The framework isn't smashed up, anyhow," he observed grimly. "The
pilot thinks we're some of Jacaro's gang. My guns were proof, to him.
So, since the Ragged Men didn't get us, he gassed us." He watched
again, his eyes narrow. The pilot was utterly still. "He may be
knocked out. I hope so! I'm going to see."

* * * * *

Automatic held ready, Tommy moved toward the crashed machine. It had
splashed into the ooze less than a hundred yards away. Tommy moved
cautiously. Twenty yards away, the pilot moved feebly. He had knocked
his head against some part of his machine. A moment later he opened
his eyes and stared about. The next instant he had seen Tommy and
moved convulsively. A glittering thing appeared in his hand--and Tommy
fired. The glittering thing flew to one side and the pilot clapped his
hand to a punctured forearm. He went white, but his jaw set. He stared
at Tommy, waiting for death.

"For the love of Pete," said Tommy irritably, "I'm not going to kill
you! You tried to kill me, and it was very annoying, but I have some
things I want to tell you."

He stopped and felt foolish because his words were, of course,
unintelligible.