then stiffened as a crash sounded in the room. Rick and
Scotty snapped out of their weary haziness and leaped into the room
behind Tony in time to see a figure dive headlong from the window.

Rick yelled in horror. They rushed to the window, expecting to see the
man dead on the ground below. Instead, they saw him swing lightly from
the branch of a flame tree and drop to the ground. He ran across Dewey
Boulevard and was lost in the darkness under the walls of Intramuros.

CHAPTER IV

Inside the Walls

"The fire escape!" Scotty yelled.

Rick was with him on the instant. They ran to the end of the corridor,
threw open the door, and dashed down the fire escape. No word passed
between them as they crossed Dewey Boulevard. At a time like this their
teamwork was automatic.

They reached the walls of Intramuros, and Scotty went left, Rick right.
Somewhere along the walls, or within the city, was the intruder. The
question was, Had the intruder kept right on going across the walled
city, or was he in hiding, waiting to see whether or not he was being
pursued? If the former, their chances of catching up with him were
almost zero.

Rick rounded the corner of the wall and had a clear view all the way
down to the Department of Commerce building nearly a half mile away.
There were sufficient street lights to show him that the quarry was not
in sight.

He saw a breach in the wall a few yards away and hurried toward it.
There was almost no light within the walled city, he suspected, but he
would have to look. The breach turned out to be a pile of rubble. He
would have to go over the wall unless he wanted to search for an
entrance. There wasn't time for that. He climbed up the pile of rubble,
careful about his footholds, and gained the top of the wall. For a
moment he was silhouetted at his full height.

And in that instant a rifle cracked. He saw the muzzle flame, and in the
next instant he heard the soft smacking sound of the slug as it went
past his ear. There was only one thing to do. He jumped.

The wall was high, and he had no way of knowing what was below, but it
was better to risk unknown rubble than another shot from the sniper's
gun.

He landed with knees flexed, struck level ground, but fell forward with
the momentum of the fall. Thorns dug into his hands and he smothered a
grunt of pain. He lay where he was, not moving, waiting for some move
from the sniper and for his eyes to adjust themselves to the d