the sight centered. Can't you see that little bulge?
Right there." She started to stand up and point.

McLean jerked her backward and shoved her face into the sand. "Don't get
so excited that you start to stand up," he growled. Light sparkled
through the air above them.

"I forgot," the girl said, meekly. "Let me get my head up. You've got my
nose and mouth full of sand."

"Out here, you only forget once," the roustabout said, releasing her. "I
still don't see anything," he said, peering through the scope. He moved
aside as she pushed at his shoulder.

Again she studied the terrain. Making a minute adjustment of the sight,
she pulled the trigger. The Rangeley burped softly--it was a gas
operated gun--then three quick explosions took place out on the desert
where the explosive pellets hit. A wild yell followed. McLean got his
eye to the sight in time to see a tribesman spin crazily within fifty
feet of them. The fellow turned one last cartwheel, then collapsed into
a bundle of dead rags.

"You got one!" McLean yelled triumphantly.

"Did--did I? I'm sorry--I mean--" Her voice trailed choked with fear.

* * * * *

He looked quickly at her. The girl's eyes were filled with tears. "I
didn't really mean to do it," she blubbered.

"Cut out that damned caterwauling!" he ordered. "This is war. The fact
that just you and me, and some wild Martian Indians, are involved in
this war doesn't make it any less deadly. If we don't get them, they'll
get us." He held up his bandaged hand. "Do you think the tribesman who
did that was after my fingers? He wasn't! What he wanted was my head!"

"All right, all right, I understand this intellectually, it's just that
my emotions got involved."

"Get them uninvolved," he said. "How could you see that Martian when I
couldn't?"

"Better ability to differentiate colors, probably," the girl answered.
"Women can usually see colors better than men. That was the way I picked
him out."

"Do some more differentiating between colors," he invited, waving her
back to the sight of the Rangeley. "Maybe, by Harry, we'll get out of
here alive after all!" Hope surged in his voice. "If we do--"

"If we do, then what?" the girl asked.

He shook his head. "If we do get out, I couldn't tell you anyhow.
There's no point in talking. But in case we don't get out, I want you to
know that you're a mighty nice kid."

"Well--thanks." Her eyes were deep blue again, like th