e got it on and have hold of a few fresh Lewistons."

They hurried down corridors, up ramps, and along hallways, with
Costigan's spy-ray investigating the course ahead for chance Nevians.
Bradley and Clio were unarmed, but the secret agent had found a piece of
flat metal and had ground it to a razor edge.

"I think I can throw this thing straight enough and fast enough to chop
off a Nevian's head before he can put a paralyzing ray on us," he
explained grimly, but he was not called upon to show his skill with the
improvised cleaver.

As he had concluded from his careful survey, every Nevian was at some
control or weapon, doing his part in that frightful combat with the
denizens of the greater deeps. Their part was open, they were neither
molested nor detected as they ran toward the compartment within which
was sealed all their Terrestrial belongings. The door of that room
opened, as had the other, to Costigan's knowing beam; and all three set
hastily to work. They made up packs of food, filled their capacious
pockets with emergency rations, recharged and buckled on Lewistons and
automatics, donned their armor, and clamped into their external holsters
a full complement of additional weapons.

"Now comes the ticklish part of the business," Costigan informed them.
His helmet was slowly turning this way and that, and the others knew
that through his spy-ray goggles he was studying their route. "There's
only one boat we stand a chance of reaching, and somebody's mighty apt
to see us. There's a lot of detectors up there, and we'll have to cross
a corridor full of communicator beams. There, that line's off ...
scoot!"

At his word they dashed out into the hall and hurried along for minutes,
dodging to right or left as the leader snapped out orders. Finally he
stopped.

"Here's those beams I told you about. We'll have to roll under 'em.
They're less than waist high--right there's the lowest one. Watch me do
it, and when I give you the word, one at a time, you do the same. _Keep
low_--don't let an arm or a leg get up into the path of a ray or they
may see us."

He threw himself flat, rolled upon the floor a yard or so, and scrambled
to his feet. He gazed intently at the blank wall for a space, then:

"Bradley--now!" he snapped, and the Interplanetary captain duplicated
his performance.

But Clio, unused to the heavy and cumbersome space-armor she was
wearing, could not roll in it with any degree of success. When Costig