s Ozma of Oz, I guess, but it was the first
project to use the Green Bank telescope to try to locate intelligent
signals from space. Stuff exactly like this."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. On the level."

Scotty listened to the continuous signal, his face thoughtful. "Maybe
there is intelligence behind it. And maybe not. I don't get much of a
pattern out of the sounds."

"Maybe the seven-eyed men of the planet Glup don't have rhythm," Rick
began. "Anyway ..."

He never finished the sentence. The control-room door slammed open.
Arabs crashed through, bringing the police guard to his feet with a
bound. He snatched a pistol from a shoulder holster and got off two
shots before an answering shot caught him and spun him around with the
impact. The police guard slid slowly to the floor!

CHAPTER XVIII

The Fight at Sahara Wells

The pistol dropped from the police driver's nerveless hand and Scotty
leaped. Rick dropped to the floor as his pal picked up the pistol and
rolled, shooting as he turned. His second shot caught an Arab and
slammed him back into the others who were trying to crowd in.

Rick looked frantically for a weapon. The only thing in sight was a
heavy ceramic ash tray that the guard's fall had knocked to the floor.
He grabbed it and threw, rising to one elbow. The ash tray caught an
Arab in the throat. Someone shot, and chips flew from the cement floor
next to Rick's head. He rolled away.

Scotty aimed with care, as coolly as though he stood on the range back
home. He squeezed the trigger and was rewarded by a choked yell from
beyond the doorway. He fired again, and a burnoosed figure grabbed the
doorframe for support.

The Arabs beyond the doorway had dived for cover, leaving the doorframe
clear except for the most recent victim of Scotty's shooting and the one
Rick had hit. He was lying on the floor with both hands clutched to his
throat, gagging and gasping for air.

A headdress was thrust around the frame and Scotty squeezed off a quick
shot. The hammer clicked harmlessly. He was out of ammunition! He threw
the pistol and the head vanished.

Both boys got to their feet and crouched to rush any newcomers. They
whirled at the tinkle of broken glass behind them.

Youssef stood in the window, a Sten gun trained on them. Rick looked at
the deadly little submachine gun and gulped. He remembered what Ben had
said about removing the evidence.

The thief said, "Put both hands on top of your he