prime mover, the defier of the
Mercutians, had escaped. The invaders sought him ceaselessly, offering
huge rewards for knowledge of his whereabouts. But there were no
traitors. Even these few who knew would suffer unimaginable tortures
rather than reveal him to the enemy.

"Patience," Hilary counseled his little band. "I know it is hard; I
have my own scores to even. But we could only bring disaster upon
ourselves and the cause of Earth's freedom by premature action. What
have we? A handful of men, poorly armed. A few pistols; only, three of
which can use the dynol pellets; a little ammunition. The rest of you
have knives, axes, pitchforks. Poor enough weapons against the
terrible rays of the Mercutians. We must wait."

Someone grumbled. "For what? Until the Mercutians finally trace our
hideout and ray us out of existence?"

"We must take that chance," Hilary told him quietly. "Let it but rain,
and we move at once."

"It never will," someone averred with profound conviction.

* * * * *

It began to seem so as the days passed, and the sun blazed pitilessly
as ever. The brief night showers had ceased completely. That seemed
the only effect of the weather machine's destruction. Some of the
weaker spirits among the men were for disbanding. They were afraid of
eventual discovery; anxious about their families, left to the tender
mercies of the outlanders. Hilary argued, dissuaded, but to no effect.
They were determined to go. If by the end of the week there was no
action, they said, they would leave. It was Wednesday then.

Thursday and Friday passed. No change. On Saturday a scout brought
breathless tidings. One of the great diskoids had crashed to the
ground from its station fifty miles up in a smother of flame and
flying fragments. No one knew what had happened; the Mercutians of
course threw a strict censorship about the affair.

But rumors flew on winged whisperings. Some war vessel from space had
attacked the Mercutian, brought it down. More diskoids were rushed to
New York; there were five now menacing the territory.

Grim looked steadily at Hilary when the news was brought to them. A
momentary wild hope flared in his friend's eye that died out quickly.

"I know what you're going to say," said Hilary. "You think it is Wat
Tyler and Joan, somehow escaped in the _Vagabond_."

The giant nodded slowly. "Why not?" he challenged.

"It's impossible," muttered the other. "Where cou