hen the shot
was past. The duty man's voice sounded from the grid in answer to
Grantline's question:

"Five degrees colder in your building. Can't you feel it?"

The disturbed, weakened Erentz system had allowed the outer cold to
radiate through a trifle. The walls had had a trifle extra explosive
pressure from the air. A strain--but that was all.

"It's probably their most powerful single weapon, Gregg," said
Grantline.

I nodded, "Yes, I think so."

I had smashed the real giant, with its ten mile range. The ship was
only two miles from us, but it seemed as though this projector were
exerted to its distance limit. I had noticed on the deck only one of
this type. The others, paralyzing rays and heat rays, were less
deadly.

Grantline commented: "We can withstand a lot of that bombardment. If
we stay inside--"

That ray, striking a man outside, would penetrate his Erentz suit
within a few seconds, we could not doubt. We had, however, no
intention of going out unless for dire necessity.

"Even so," said Grantline, "a hand shield would hold it off for a
certain length of time."

We had an opportunity a moment later to test our insulated shields.
The bolt came again. It darted along the front face of the building,
caught our window, and clung. The double window shelves were our
weakest points. The sheet of flashing Erentz current was transparent;
we could see through it as though it were glass. It moved faster, but
was thinner at the windows than the walls. We feared the bombarding
electrons might cross it, penetrate the inner shell and, like a
lightning bolt, enter the room.

We dropped the curtain corner. The radiance of the bolt was dimly
visible. A few seconds, then it vanished again, and behind the shield
we had not felt a tingle.

"Harmless!"

But our power had been drained nearly an aeron, to neutralize the
shock to the Erentz current. Grantline said:

"If they kept that up, it would be a question of whose power supply
would last longer. And it would not be ours.... You saw our lights
fade when the bolt was striking?"

But the brigands did not know we were short of power. And to fire the
projector with a continuous bolt would, in thirty minutes, perhaps,
have exhausted their own power reserve.

"I won't answer them," Grantline declared. "Our game is to sit
defensive. Conserve everything. Let them make the leading moves."

We waited half an hour; but no other shot came. The valley floor was
pat