. With the
mid-morning there was a sudden sound to warn them--a wild cry which
must have come from a human throat. Hume tossed one of the needlers to
Vye, took the other, and they scrambled down to the floor of the gap
passage.

Wass did not lead his men, he came behind the reeling trio as if he
had joined the blasts as driver. And while his men wavered, staggered,
gave the appearance of nearly complete exhaustion, he still walked
with a steady tread, in command of his wits, his fears, and the
company.

As the first of the men blundered on, a fresh trickle of red running
down his bruised face, Hume called:

"Wass!"

The Veep stopped short. He made no move to unsling the needler he
carried, its barrel pointing skyward over his shoulder, but his round
head with its upstanding comb of hair swung slightly from side to
side.

"Stop--Wass--this is a trap!"

His three men kept on. Vye moved, for Peake leading that wavering
group, stumbled, would have fallen had not the younger man advanced
from the shadows to steady him.

"Vye!" Hume made his name a warning.

He had only time to glance around. Wass, his broad face impassive
except for the eyes--those burning madman's eyes--was aiming a ray
tube.

Broken free of his hold, Peake fell to the right, came up against
Hume. As Vye went down he saw Wass dart forward at a speed he wouldn't
have believed a driven man could summon. The Veep lunged, escaping the
shot the Hunter had no time to aim, rolled, and came up with the
needler Vye had dropped.

Then Hume, hampered by Peake's feeble clawing, met head on the
swinging barrel of that weapon. He gave a startled grunt and smashed
back against the cliff, a wave of scarlet blood streaming down the
side of his head.

The momentum of Wass' charge carried him on. He collided with his men,
and the last thing Vye saw, was the huddle of all four of them,
flailing arms and legs, spinning on through the gate into the valley
with Wass' hoarse, wordless shouting, bringing echoes from the cliffs.

13

He lay against a rock, and it was quiet again, except for a small
whimpering sound which hurt, joined with the eating pain in his side.
Vye turned his head, smelled burned cloth and flesh. Cautiously he
tried to move, bring his hand across his body to the belt at his
waist. One small part of his mind was very clear--if he could get his
fingers to the packet there, and the contents of that packet to his
mouth, the pain would