of St. Vitus dance. If the reeds
are in equilibrium the pilot knows it is clear sailing straight to his
field.

The sensitive altimeter showed Lieut. Doolittle his altitude and made it
possible for him to calculate his landing to a distance of within a few
feet from the ground.

Probably the strangest device of all that Lieut. Doolittle has been
called upon to test in Mr. Guggenheim's war against fog is a sort of
heat cannon that goes forth to combat like a fire-breathing dragon of
old. Like the enemies of the dragon, the fog is supposed to curl up and
die before the scorching breath of the "hot air artillery" although the
fundamental principle behind the device is a great deal more scientific
than such an explanation sounds. It is, in brief, based on the known
fact that fog forms only in a very narrow temperature zone which lies
between the saturation and precipitation points of the atmosphere. If
the air grows a little colder the fog turns into rain and falls; if it
is warmed very slightly the mist disappears and the air is once more
normally clear, although its humidity is very close to the maximum.

Brigands of the Moon

(The Book of Gregg Haljan)

PART TWO OF A FOUR-PART NOVEL

_By Ray Cummings_

[Illustration: _I turned back to look at the Planetara._]

Out of awful space tumbled the Space-ship _Planetara_ towards the
Moon, her officers _dead_, with bandits at her helm--and the
controls out of order!

My name, Gregg Haljan. My age, twenty-five years. My occupation, at the
time my narrative begins, in 2075, was third officer of the
Interplanetary Space-ship _Planetara_.

Thus I introduce myself to you. For this is a continuation of the book
of Gregg Haljan, and of necessity I am the chief actor therein. I shall
recapitulate very briefly what has happened so far:

Unscrupulous Martian brigands were scheming for Johnny Grantline's
secret radium-ore treasure, dug out of the Moon and waiting there to be
picked up by the _Planetara_ on her return trip from Mars.

The _Planetara_ left, bound for Mars, some ten days away. Suspicious
interplanetary passengers were aboard: Miko and Moa, a brother and a
sister of Mars; Sir Arthur Coniston, a mysterious Englishman; Ob Hahn, a
Venus mystic. And small, effeminate George Prince and his sister, Anita.
Love, I think, was born instantly between Anita and me. I found all too
soon that Miko, the sinister giant from Mars, also desired her.

[Illustratio