Stan hardly heard him. It didn't mean anything to him one way or the other, he kept telling himself. They were apes. Just apes. "What will the apes say when this is over and they discover the shattered houses and the bodies?" Tanner picked off another running figure. "There'll be no bodies. The wind disperses the ashes as soon as the field is let up. As for the rest--the apes are ingenious in thinking up explanations. They never believe in anything they haven't seen themselves." The room was thick with dust and the noise of the spanging; the front wall was holed in half a dozen different spots. Then there was a rush of figures across the street and Stan caught his breath. In the lead was Avis, black hair streaming, urging the others on.... Tanner suddenly ran to the back of the room and pushed the bureau and the bed over by the front wall. He stripped the closet and piled the clothes by the furniture. There was a lull in the spanging and a quiet sobbing suddenly filled the room. Stan turned. Reynolds had collapsed in a corner, half out of his mind with fear. Tears straggled down the big man's face and sobbing convulsed his chest. Tanner gestured to the front wall. "Get over there, Reynolds!" The frightened man half crawled, half stumbled over to the tumbled furniture. "You wanted an explanation, didn't you?" Tanner asked sharply. Stan knew what was coming. Reynolds had ended up by knowing too much. Which was just too bad for Reynolds. Reynolds' frightened babbling gradually made sense. "_Get me out of here, Mr. Tanner! Please get me out of here...._" "Gladly," Tanner said grimly. He brought up the heater and a violet beam danced over the crouching man and the bureau and the piled clothing. There was a short, pitiful screaming and then flames shot high into the room and billows of smoke curled casually through the broken windows. * * * * * Something inside Stan felt sick and he cursed himself for his own weakness. "Get the suitcase and let's go, Martin." The suitcase. It wasn't there. While they had been busy at the windows, Stan thought, somebody had stolen the case. Reynolds hadn't even seen them and even if he had--the ape was now beyond questioning. "It's gone?" Tanner laughed. "Avis is an amateur, Martin. And a bungling amateur at that! She could have killed us again and instead she preferred the case! One call to Ainsworth and we'll replace that tomorrow!" They were feeling their way down the back stairs when the thick feeling to the air disappeared. Suddenly the street was filled with screams as passersby noticed the instantaneously ruined house and the burning cars and the suspicious mounds of ashes that swirled up into the morning air. A block away, Stan stopped and wiped the sweat and soot from his face. Tanner looked at him sharply. "Something wrong?"