I was gripping the projector, struggling to keep its muzzle pointed upwards. With a heave of his giant arms De Boer lifted me and jerked me bodily through the window. I fell on my feet, still fighting. But other hands seized me. It was no use. I yielded suddenly. I panted: "Enough!" They held me. One of them growled. "Another shout and we will leave you here dead. Commander, _look_!" My shirt was torn open. The electrode band about my chest was exposed! De Boer towered head and shoulders over me. I gazed up, passive in the grip of two or three of his men, and saw his face. His heavy jaw dropped as he gazed at my little diaphragms, the electrode. He knew now for the first time that this was no private citizen he had assaulted. This official apparatus meant that I was a Government agent. * * * * * There was an instant of shocked silence. An expression grim and furious crossed the giant bandit's face. "So this is it? Hans, careful--hold him!" Jetta was still in her room, silent now. I heard Spawn's voice, close at hand in the patio. "De Boer! Careful!" It was the most cautious of half-whispers. Abruptly someone reached for my chest; jerked at the electrode; tore its fragile wires--the tiny grids and thumbnail amplifiers; jerked and ripped and flung the whole little apparatus to the garden path. But it sang its warning note as the wires broke. Up in Great New York Hanley knew then that catastrophe had fallen upon me. For a brief instant the crestfallen bandit mumbled at what he had done. Then came Spawn's voice: "Got him, De Boer? Good!" Triumphant Spawn! He advanced across the garden with his heavy tread. And to me, and I am sure to De Boer as well, there came the swift realization that Spawn had been hiding safely in the background. But my detector was smashed now. It might have imaged De Boer assailing me: but now that it was smashed, Spawn could act freely. "Good! So you have him! Make away to the mine!" I did not see De Boer's face at that instant. But I saw his weapon come up--an act wholly impulsive, no doubt. A flash of fury! He levelled the projector, not at me, but at the on-coming Spawn. "You damn liar!" "De Boer--" It was a scream of terror from Spawn. But it came too late. The projector hissed; spat its tiny blue puff. The needle drilled Spawn through the heart. He toppled, flung up his arms, and went down, silently, to sprawl on his face across the garden path. * * * * * De Boer was cursing, startled at his own action. The men holding me tightened their grip. I heard Jetta cry out, but not at what had happened in the garden: she was unaware of that. One of the bandits had left the group and climbed into her room. Her cry now was suppressed, as though the man's hand went over her mouth. And in the silence came his mumbled voice: "Shut up, you!" There was the sound of a scuffle in there. I tore at the men holding me. "Let me go! Jetta! Come out!"