"Tied hand and foot?" cried Pudgy. "Why not kill me and get it over with? This town is closed out, I could yell all day and nobody would hear me. I'll starve! No one will ever come--" "_We'll_ come, and free you," Wales said. "After we've got Kendrick off that island. But of course, if we fail, if they get us, then we'll never be back. I want you to think about that." Pudgy had thought about it, and it was clear that he did not like that thought at all. When it had sunk in, Wales said, "Now you tell us all you know about the set-up on that island. How many guards, where they usually are, how they're armed, where Kendrick is kept. Everything. If you brief us well enough, we _may_ succeed--and then we'll be back for you." Pudgy had got the point. He had talked long and rapidly, feverishly giving Wales every scrap of information he possessed. They had left him there, and had come by foot to the waterfront, and now if they had a boat, the island was only a little way ahead. But there was no boat, not a canoe even, along these dark docks. Wales led the way farther along the waterfront. He dared not flash a light, and they might search all night amid these dark piers without success. * * * * * He was beginning to despair, when they came to a small boatyard. He found a skiff by stumbling over it in the dark. There were no oars, but he soon forced the door of the dark office-shack and found those. "Now before we start, Martha--" He was fitting the oars into locks that he'd made as silent as possible by rag mufflings. "--when we reach the island, I want you to stay on the shore and wait." "I'm not afraid--" she began, but Wales cut her short. "Listen, it's not that. I'll be in the dark there. If I have to shoot, I want to be sure I'm not shooting you by mistake." He pushed out onto the water, and bent to the oars, rowing steadily. The tide was running, and he had to allow for that, but there was only a little choppiness on the Upper Harbor. Wales thought again how unreal everything on Earth seemed by now. And this scene most of all! This harbor had once been the busiest in the world, and by night the lights of shipping, of docks, of bridges, had flared everywhere, with the electric glow of Manhattan blazing over everything. And now there was silence and darkness on the waters. All the millions who had lived around these shores had left Earth long ago, and their cities were dark and still. Only the downtown tip of Manhattan still showed patterns of lighted windows, where the ceaseless activities of Operation Doomsday centered. Wales rowed on, and then rested his oars a moment and turned and peered ahead in the darkness. He saw a lofty shadow now against the stars, and knew that it was the great Statue. He lifted the oars again, rowing now with infinite care to make no sound. _Brr-rumble--oom--oom--oom--_