sneak-thieves from another ship were stealing beer from the Winship—!

The two members of the crew took Rickey—their mascot—to the center of the leaden platform. They fastened him there while he squirmed and tried to lick their hands through his glassite helmet. They padlocked him in place. But the chain which held him was rather queer.

"Ship go up," said Joe briefly. "Use weapon. Then come back for Martian thing. Or—"

He permitted himself a faint flicker of a smile. Then he turned to Dick Harkness.

"Take her up to a thousand feet and let 'er go," he commanded. "Be sure to hit it squarely. A miss would be bad! I wait here."

For him to stay on the ground was wisdom, but he felt horribly lonely as his little ship lifted and left him behind. If he stayed on the ground, the Ganymedians would stay and witness the demonstration of the Earth-weapon. If he didn't stay, they might slip away—and miss what they ought to see.

It was very simple and very effective. The Winship rose to a thousand feet or more and hovered over the cadmium-lead platform. Suddenly there was a faint, bluish glow beneath it. Instantly there was a billowing, expanding cloud of smoke where Rickey had been.

It cleared. Rickey was gone. Even his chain had vanished. He was living matter, in a space-suit. The Earth-weapon had been trained upon him, after an elaborate shield had been made to keep it from destroying all life in a huge area on the far side of the planet.

He had, unquestionably, exploded. Joe saw it. He grinned. And Ychan turned those milky-gray opaque eyes of his on Joe, and saw the expression which to him meant the ultimate of satisfied rage as regarded the animal which had killed four men. A ripple went over Ychan's glistening hide.

"Earthmen," said Ychan with finality, "would win war. You wait. We bring Martian thing."

When the Winship took off from Ganymede, the lead-cadmium plates were stored again. Joe would have abandoned them for speed, but there was a reason for retrieving them. Speed was called for, because he had a Martian gadget on board—made with that finicky, uselessly detailed artistry of all Martian objects—and it was desirable to get it to base, fast, for examination so counter-measures could be worked out.

But there was a reason for 

 Prev. P 12/13 next