hink? Hell, no! That was one thing
that he must not do. He threw one arm across his eyes to shut out the
light that brought visions of a world he would never see again--that
emphasized the utter hopelessness of their position.... His next
conscious sensation was of his shoulder being shaken, while the hushed
voice of Doctor Kreiss said:

"Your turn now, Herr Bullard; four hours have you slept."

From Kreiss, Chet took the pistol with its seven precious shells. "All
quiet," Kreiss told him as he prepared to take Chet's place on the soft
leaves; "strange, flying things have I seen, but they do not come near.
And of your mysterious pursuer we have seen nothing. You imagined it,
perhaps."

"I might have imagined it," Chet answered, "but don't try to tell me
that the plants did. I'll give this vegetation credit for some damned
uncanny powers but not for imagination--I draw the line there."

He looked toward the highest point of rock and shook his head. "Too
plain a target if I'm up there," he argued, and took up his position in
the shadows instead.

Once he moved cautiously toward the place they had prepared for Diane.
She was breathing softly and regularly. And on the rock at her side,
with only his jacket for a bed, lay Harkness. Their hands were clasped,
and Chet knew that the girl slept peacefully in the assurance of that
touch.

"They don't make 'em any finer!" he was telling himself, and at the same
moment he stiffened abruptly to attention.

Something was moving! Through and above the hushed noises of the night
had come a gliding sound. It was an indescribable sound, too elusive for
identification; and Chet, in the next instant, could not be sure of its
reality. He did not call, but swung alertly back on guard and slipped
from shadow to shadow as he made his way across the welter of rocks.

* * * * *

He stopped at last in strained listening to the silent night. One hand
upon a great stone block at his side steadied his body in tense, poised
concentration.

From afar came a whistling note whose thin keenness was mingled with a
squeal of fright: some marauder of the night had found its prey. From
the leafy canopy above him voices whispered as the night wind set a
myriad leaves in motion. The thousand tiny sounds that blend to make the
silence of the dark! These he heard, and nothing more, while he forced
himself to listen beyond them. He followed with his eyes the creeping
fl