Up into the sky westward rose another of the mighty Marslift rocket-ships, and then in quick succession, two more. The flare of them in the heavens sent a wild, shaking light over the waters, over the little skiff. "Get down!" Wales whispered frantically, and he and Martha crouched low in the little craft. The _oom--oom--oom_ faded away in muttering echoes. Wales could but pray that they had not been seen from the island ahead, and row on. He hoped desperately that there would be no more rocket-ships taking off, no more flares in the sky, until he reached the island. It seemed to him that he rowed eternally, and got nowhere. Then, in the darkness, Martha whispered warning. The skiff bumped land. Wales made out a low bank rising above them. He picked up the Venn gun and climbed ashore. He whispered, "Stay in the skiff, Martha. You can push off if I fail." And added quickly, "Don't you see, if I do fail, you'll be the last hope left." He gave her no time to argue. He gripped the Venn gun, and started through the darkness. There was no doubt about directions. Huge now against the stars loomed the Statue. And in it, if Pudgy had told truth, were Lee Kendrick--and the four of Fairlie's secret police who guarded him. Wales crossed the park with his stubby gun held high. The grass was tall and ragged from long lack of care. And there was not a sound, or a light, on the little island. He circled around to the front of the Statue, and stared up at the parapet of the mighty pedestal, and the entrance to the giant figure. Nothing. No light, no sound of movement. Wales felt a chill of dismay. He had not realized how much he had begun to hope, until now. _Brr-rumble--_ He heard the first preliminary roar from the west, and immediately he dropped flat behind a shrub. * * * * * The full thunderous diapason of take-off broke around him, and the flaming exclamation point in the heavens blazed brightly. And Wales saw a man, with a gun under his arm, standing on the parapet. The flare of light died, and the rocket-roar grumbled away. But now, as he rose to his feet, Wales felt a wild triumph. The guard was there, as Pudgy had said, and that meant-- He moved forward, and started up the steps. He was more than halfway up them, moving softly, when he heard a movement above. Wales froze. The guard above might not have heard him. But he could take no chances, with all that depended on him now. He crouched waiting on the steps, the Venn gun raised. It seemed to him that hours went by. _Rumble-boom-boom--_ As the distant rocket-roar crashed again, as the column of fire streaked across the sky, by its light Wales saw the man on the parapet peering down toward him with his gun alertly raised. Instantly, Wales shot him. He shot to kill. The man dropped. Wales raced on up the steps, hoping that the brief burst of his Venn gun would not have been heard in the rocket-roar.