uld be grateful
to Lockley even if they never saw each other again; grateful for the
monstrous blast that would wipe this place clean of living creatures.

Lockley suddenly saw a way by which his vengeance could be increased
by just a little. It could be made even more satisfying and just.
Hiding under brushwood while the voices tirelessly repeated their
recorded persuasion, he made a very simple device. It switched onto
the instrument he carried. If his hand clenched, it would go on. If
his hand relaxed, it would go on. So if he could get within a hundred
and twenty-five yards of the rocket he could show himself and let them
know what waited for them, and why.

With infinite patience he got to a place almost near the circle of
unarmed guards about the rocket. He waited. The guards were tense.
They did not like trying to protect something with no weapons. They
were jumpy. The endlessly repeated messages booming into the night
frayed their nerves. They were plainly on edge.

Their tenseness made the oldest trick in the world serve Lockley's
purpose. He threw a stone from an especially dark shadow. It struck
and bounced upon another stone, and it created a rustling of brushwood
at a place distant from Lockley. And the unarmed guards plunged for
that place to seize whatever or whoever had made the disturbance.

They were too eager. They stumbled upon each other.

And Lockley ran, and a voice cried out in terror. And then Lockley
stood with his back to the rocket's lower parts, and he waved the
cheese grater derisively and shouted.

Then there was stillness. Only the booming voice from the speakers
went on. It happened to be Sattell's voice.

"_ ... all right. It's perfectly all right. When you understand you'll
realize that you had to be deceived as I was. It was necessary. Come
out and everything--_"

Somebody cut off the recorder. There was a moment of blank indecision,
and then a man in uniform with two general's stars on his shoulders
came out of somewhere and walked to face Lockley.

"Ah, Lockley!" he said briskly. "That's the thing you smash cars and
explode ammunition with, eh? Do you think it will blow the rocket?"

"I'm going to try it!" said Lockley. "Listen." He showed how anything
that could be done to him would close the switch one way or the other.
"I wanted you to know before I blow it!" he said fiercely. "Where's
Jill? Jill Holmes? One of your cars picked her up and brought her
here. Where is sh