e of the
_Stellar_.

It touched the metal plates, spreading upon impact, growing, enlarging,
to right and left, upward and downward, and where it touched the
_Stellar_ the black of it seemed to erase that portion of the ship. In
the slow motion every detail was apparent. At regular speed the blotting
out of the _Stellar_ would have been instantaneous.

Kleig saw himself rise slowly from the vanished rail, turning over and
over, going down to the sea. He almost closed his eyes, bit his lips to
keep back the cries of terror when he saw the others aboard the liner
rise, turn over and over, and fly in all directions like jackstraws in a
high wind.

* * * * *

The ship was erased from beneath passengers and crew, and passengers and
crew fell into the sea. Out of the depths, from all directions, came the
starving denizens of the sea--starving because liners now were so few.

"That's enough of that, Professor," snapped Kleig. "Now jump ahead
approximately eight hours, and see if you can pick up that aero-sub
after it dropped me on the Jersey Coast."

The picture faded out quickly, the screaming of doomed human beings,
already hours dead, called back to apparent living by the genius of
Maniel died away, and for a space the screen was blank.

Then, the sea again, storm-tossed as before, shifting here and there as
Maniel sought in the immensity of sea and sky for the thing he desired.

"Two hundred miles south by east of New York City," he droned. "There it
is, gentlemen!"

They all saw it then, in full flight, eight thousand feet above the
surface of the Atlantic, traveling south by east at a dizzy rate of
speed.

"Note," said Kleig, "that it keeps safely to the low altitudes, in order
to escape the notice of regular air traffic."

No one answered.

The eyes of the Secret Agents were on that flashing, bulbous-bodied
plane of the strange wings. It appeared to be heading directly for some
objective which must be reached at top speed.

* * * * *

For fifteen minutes the flight continued. Then the plane tilted over and
dived, and at an altitude still of three thousand feet, the wings
slashed forward, clicking into their notches in the sides of the bulbous
body, with a sound like the ratchets on subway turnstiles, and, holding
their breath, the Secret Agents watched it plummet down to the sea. It
was traveling with terrific speed when it struck, yet it en