come out you listen, and tell what they say.

"Now, do you both understand?"

Sigyn made a sound that meant she did but Tip clutched at his wrist with
little paws suddenly gone cold and wailed, "_No!_ Scared--scared----"

"You have to go, Tip," he said, gently disengaging his wrist. "And Sigyn
will hide near to you and watch over you." He spoke to Sigyn. "When the
horn calls you run back with him."

Again she made the sound signifying understanding and he touched them
both in what he hoped would not be the last farewell.

"All right, Sigyn--go now."

She vanished into the gloom of coming night, Tip hanging tightly to her.
Fenrir stood with the fur lifted on his shoulders and a half snarl on
his face as he watched her go and watched the place where the not-men
would appear.

"Where's Freckles?" he asked Jimmy.

"Here," someone said, and came forward with Tip's mate.

He set Freckles on his shoulder and the first searchlight came on,
shining down from high up on the cruiser. It lighted up the area around
them in harsh white brilliance, its reflection revealing the black
shadow that was Sigyn just vanishing behind the ship.

Two more searchlights came on, to illuminate the town. Then the Gerns
came.

They poured out through the airlock and down the ramp, there to form in
columns that marched forward as still more Gerns hurried down the ramp
behind them. The searchlights gleamed on their battle helmets and on the
blades of the bayonets affixed to their rifle-like long range blasters.
Hand blasters and grenades hung from their belts, together with stubby
flame guns.

They were a solid mass reaching halfway to the stockade before the last
of them, the commanding officers, appeared. One of them stopped at the
foot of the ramp to watch the advance of the punitive force and give the
frightened but faithful Tip the first words to transmit to Freckles:

"The full force is on its way, Commander."

A reply came, in Freckles' simulation of the metallic tones of a
communicator:

"The key numbers of the confiscated blasters have been checked and the
disturbance rays of the master integrator set. You'll probably have few
natives left alive to take as prisoners after those thirteen charges
explode but continue with a mopping up job that the survivors will never
forget."

_So the Gerns could, by remote control, set the total charges of stolen
blasters to explode upon touching the firing stud?_ It was something new
sin