another doorway to take shelter in some ten feet or so farther along,
beyond that an alley wall overhung by a balcony. He marked these
refuges and went out to make his first dash to safety.

Nothing stirred, and he sprinted. There came again that piercing
shriek to tear his ears as the floating box dived at him. He swerved
away from the doorway to dart on under the balcony, sure now that he
must keep moving, but under cover so that the black thing could not
pounce. If he could find some entrance into the underground ways such
as those that ran from the arena--But now he was not even sure in
which direction the arena stood, and he dared no longer climb to look
over the surrounding territory.

He touched the alien mind! They _were_ moving in, following the lead
of their hound. He must not allow himself to be cornered. The scout
fought down a surge of panic, attempted to battle the tenseness which
tied his nerves. He must not run mindlessly either. That was probably
just what they wanted him to do. So he stood under the balcony and
tried not to listen to the shrilling of the box as he studied the
strip of alley.

This was a narrow side way, and he had not made the wisest of choices
in entering it, for not much farther ahead it was bordered with smooth
walls protecting what had once been gardens. He had no way of telling
whether the box would actually attack him if he were caught in the
open--to put that to the test was foolhardy--nor could he judge its
speed of movement.

The walls.... A breeze which blew up the lane carried with it the
smell of the river. There was a slim chance that it might end in
water, and he had a feeling that if he could reach the stream he would
be able to baffle the hunters. He did not have long to make up his
mind--the aliens were closer.

Lightly Dalgard ran under the length of the balcony, turned sharply as
he reached the end of its protecting cover, and leaped. His fingers
gripped the ornamental grillwork, and he was able to pull himself up
and over to the narrow runway. A canopy was still over his head, and
there came a bump against it as the baffled box thumped. So it would
try to knock him off if it could get the chance! That was worth
knowing.

He looked over the walls. They guarded masses of tangled vegetation
grown through years of neglect into thick mats. And those promised a
way of escape, if he could reach them. He studied the windows, the
door opening onto the balcony. With t