That Llysanorh' would see the comet Ralph never doubted for a second. He headed his comet-space flyer exactly toward the point where it would collide with Mars at the end of six days. He figured that the Martians would be on the lookout, and inasmuch as Ralph's careful search did not reveal another space flyer anywhere near him, he knew that the Martian officials would surely locate and attempt to communicate with Llysanorh'. In this he was not mistaken. His chronometer pointed to 5 p.m. when he first recorded weak signals coming from Mars. Several messages were exchanged between the Martians and Llysanorh'. Llysanorh' gave his number and position in the heavens and he in turn received instructions to approach as near to the "comet's" head as feasible in order to change its course. He was also instructed to bombard the comet's nucleus with time-set torpedoes, if he could not deviate the comet from its course. Llysanorh' answered that he would follow instructions as far as his equipment allowed. During the next few days Ralph was relieved to note that the distance between him and Llysanorh' diminished with great rapidity. His trick had worked. Llysanorh' was rushing at top speed toward Ralph's flyer, firmly believing it a comet. Confident of success, sure of victory, Ralph was jubilant. Hope, so long deferred, flooded his spirit. He whistled cheerily at his work. Was not every minute bringing him closer to his sweetheart, his Alice? Was not every second drawing nearer to that moment when he would hold her in his arms? What wonder that he whistled all day long, and laughed to himself from sheer joy and relief. At last the Martian came into range. Llysanorh' approached the "comet" up to about 150 kilometers and then receded. He then took observations, but somehow or other the "comet," instead of being deflected, commenced to pursue him. This was opposed to all astronomical knowledge and reasoning, and Llysanorh', fearing collision with the "comet" began to fire explosive torpedoes into its nucleus. As the distance between it and his machine was only 100 kilometers, he could watch the torpedo in its flight. Through his telescope he could see the torpedo rushing toward the "comet's" head. But the "comet" dodged, and the torpedo shot far above the nucleus! It was uncanny. His aim had been accurate, he could have sworn. The distance was short. Yet he had missed. The "comet" had moved out of the projectile's path. He had fired again, with equal accuracy. The torpedo would surely strike now. But the "comet" this time "side-stepped," as it were, and the torpedo sped on through space, missing its target by a wide margin. Llysanorh' was bewildered. Fear gripped him. Gravitational action had not made the "comet" act in this strange manner. He fired one torpedo after another, but the "comet" dodged them all. He suddenly stopped firing torpedoes. He next tried to destroy the infernal "comet" by electricity.