As he stooped to duck under the first tier of the scaffolding a bright light flashed on above him, and an alarm bell started clanging. He cursed, and ran like a cat under the scaffolding, up to the great silvery fin of the ship. Of course, he should have thought that if there was no circuit alarm on the fence there surely would be one around the ship. Far away a roar of voices rose up, and shouts, the pummel of running feet. Frantically he thrust a dynamite charge under one of the fins of the ship, then ran to a second and laid another charge. A rifle cracked somewhere, and another, and he darted into the piles of boxes, unreeling the detonator wire as he ran. There were hoarse shouts all about him now. He ducked into a huge empty crate, not fifty feet from the charges. Huddling down in it for protection, he connected wires to the battery, and slammed down the plunger-- The shock wave hit him before the sound did, picking up the crate like a pill-box hurling Matthews head over heels. The roar burst in his ears, striking him like a palpable wall, and a shout of despair went up among the soldiers. Matt stood up, then, staring up at the great metal hulk. There was a heavy rushing sound and the ship faltered, shaking like a giant aspen leaf, and slowly began to tip-- It struck the ground with a deafening crash, a grating of torn metal and the screech of broken, twisted planks. Something exploded into a pillar of fire--and then, in the distance Matthews saw flashes of fire from the desert, heard rifles cracking. A soldier, running to the fence, saw him and raised his rifle, wild eyes reflecting the fire. Matthews dove for him, threw him back with a grunt as the rifle cracked into the air. And then the compound was wild with the sound of running, shouting men. Matthews ran for a huge truck standing near the fallen ship. He threw himself up into the cab, gunning the motor to a roar. Then the gears grated and the truck started forward, straight for the crowd of soldiers lining up at the fence. Matt gripped the steering wheel, leaning as low as possible, throwing the huge truck at the fence with all its power. The impact nearly threw him through the windshield; he heard a grating as the wire bunged out and the fence-posts snapped. Shifting into compound low, he drove the truck through the fence like a bulldozer. And then, all around him, the men from outside were pouring through the break, screaming in triumph, rifles cracking. A horde of them came, and the soldiers fell back, bewildered, shooting wildly, running in circles of panic as the angry mob poured through. And then Matt felt the first wave of shock pass through him. Wearily he dropped his head against the dash-board, gasping for breath. He knew that the ship was taken. * * * * *