all. Because this was it! What they had hunted for
months--years--now lay almost within their grasp.

Only Millaird, the director, did not seem so confident. A big man with a
bushy thatch of coarse graying hair and a heavy, fleshy face, he did not
look like a brain. Yet Ross had been on the roster long enough to know
that it was Millaird's thick and hairy hands that gathered together all
the loose threads of Operation Retrograde and deftly wove them into a
workable pattern. Now the director leaned back in a chair which was too
small for his bulk, chewing thoughtfully on a toothpick.

"So we have the first whiff of a trail," he commented without elation.

"A pretty strong lead!" Kelgarries broke in. Too excited to sit still,
the major stood with his back against the door, as alert as if he were
about to turn and face the enemy. "The Reds wouldn't have moved against
Gog if they did not consider it a menace to them. Their big base must be
in this time sector!"

"_A_ big base," Millaird corrected. "The one we are after, no. And right
now they may be switching times. Do you think they will sit here and
wait for us to show up in force?" But Millaird's tone, intended to
deflate, had no effect on the major.

"And just how long would it take them to dismantle a big base?" that
officer countered. "At least a month. If we shoot a team in there in a
hurry--"

Millaird folded his huge hands over his barrel-shaped body and laughed,
without a trace of humor. "Just where do we send that team, Kelgarries?
Northeast of a coastal point in Britain is a rather vague direction, to
say the least. Not," he spoke to Ashe now, "that you didn't do all you
could, Ashe. And you, McNeil, nothing to add?"

"No, sir. They jumped us out of the blue when Sandy thought he had every
possible line tapped, every safeguard working. I don't know how they
caught on to us, unless they located our beam to this post. If so, they
must have been deliberately hunting us for some time, because we only
used the beam as scheduled----"

"The Reds have patience and brains and probably some more of their
surprise gadgets to help them. We have the patience and the brains, but
not the gadgets. And time is against us. Get anything out of this,
Webb?" Millaird asked the hitherto silent third member of his ruling
committee.

The quiet man adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, a
flattish nose which did not support them very well. "Just another point
to add