Kahl went on raining bullets into the bushes for seconds after there were no more targets; then he stood breathing hard and glaring about him at the bodies sprawled on the scorched turf.

One of the bodies got unhurriedly to its feet and faced Kahl. It was Manning. The fatalistic paralysis that had gripped him had passed off abruptly when he saw Schwinzog fall, and he had thrown himself flat under the sweeping bursts of machine gun fire.

He said coolly, "Good work, Herr Doktor. Now we can get back to our own century."

Kahl did not answer or seem to hear. The muzzle of the weapon he held was centered on Manning's chest, and the eyes above it were mad.

"We must return now, and carry out your plan," Manning urged softly. As he talked he was walking without haste toward the gun. He did not dare glance aside to see what had happened to Dugan, or let even his expression betray his terrible eagerness to seize the moment—before Kahl went completely off the deep end, or before the Germans back there in the bushes collected their wits.

"You are American," scowled Kahl. "One of those who hate us. What have I to do with you?"

"I will help you," said Manning. "Your plan is good. Germany and all the world will revere your name when they know." He halted, almost touching the gun muzzle. In a moment now he had to grab it.

"I do not know—" began Kahl, blinking. Then his eyes widened blankly; something had plucked at Manning's sleeve, and from somewhere in the thicket came a rifle's crack. The Herr Doktor crumpled to the ground.

From behind him appeared Dugan, straightening from a crouch; without a word he sprang for the door of the time traveler. Manning followed, ducking under another bullet from the woods. He slammed the door shut.

"What'd you take a chance like that for?" demanded Dugan bitterly. "I was sneaking round behind him all the time."

Manning didn't answer. He was surveying the apparatus-covered table, hesitating over its complexity.

Outside rifles began banging steadily. The metal shell of the machine rang and splinters flew from the wooden door as bullets came through to ricochet dangerously inside. Manning's mouth set and with a quick wrist-flip he closed the starting switch.

And there was silence.

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