And the unseen, pixy speaker went on: "Come now, Kerwin!" he was chided. "This won't do at all! You're a big man, you know! You've sent thousands of youth to their deaths already--just for your own glory. You can't let everybody know you've got a yella streak a yard wide.... No, stop! Don't go turning off those switches! It happens we could kill you in a split second. On the second thought, maybe it's just as well folks see what goes on here. You wouldn't want anybody to be misled, would you? There, that's better! Don't shiver so much. Don't turn. Just stay where you are.... "That's probably a real good microphone you've got there, Kerwin. It'll probably pick up even my voice, so everybody can hear it. I'm not exactly just the voice of your conscience, you see. Nor am I so easily ignored. By now many men know what you're up to, Kerwin. They know about those robots--that they're only mechanical things intended for defense. They've learned this fact in the front lines. But you've been clever enough to keep them there, where they'd be killed quickly. But we know more about this so-called 'Murgatroyd-Wilcox Horror' than you or your scientists do, Kerwin. Because we've been--and so to speak still are--_on the inside_! "There's just one thing for me to say to the world, Kerwin. There isn't time, right at this moment, for complete explanations. But I think many people will anticipate my suggestion--that the army be withdrawn to a distance of half a mile from its present entrenchments. I do not think it will be attacked there. If we are given ten days to work--Miss Lyssa Arthurs, late of the _Brenton Herald_, and myself, Perry Wilcox--I think the trouble will be cleared up." The little voice took on a sharper edge, as it addressed itself more directly to the financier: "You can turn around now, Kerwin. I guess it's the end, huh? They've seen you, they've got your number. They've heard me talk. Maybe they're wondering what it's all about. Maybe they're scared and uncertain. But one thing's sure--you're through. You're a yellow fake, Kerwin...." * * * * * Slowly the financier pivoted on rubbery legs. His now bulging eyes saw nothing but the great room, which was to have been the focus of his empire. Quivering with a horror that was part nameless and partly born of the knowledge that he was an exposed enemy of society who could never escape, Kerwin backed along the wall. He reached a window, and tugged at its fastenings for air. He gave a start as a low hiss sounded near him. Looking back, he saw a little dartlike thing, spitting blue flame, and swinging close. It had an ugly, alien look. He ducked it, screaming. With wild clawings in which no reason remained, except to escape that devilish, hissing unknown, he climbed to the window sill. There he toppled briefly, babbling: "I didn't mean it! No! Don't!..." A moment later he pitched, with a wail of terror, toward the street far below.