Like a swooping hawk, the _Monitor_ plunged from her hiding place. Sherman had guessed aright. The green ball was not five miles ahead of them, swinging over the summits of the Catskills to reach its home. As they plunged down the yellow ray came on, stabbed quickly, once, twice, thrice--caught them for a brief second of agonizing vibration, then lost them again as Sherman twisted the _Monitor_ round. Then Gloria's beam struck the huge globule fair and square, Ben Ruby threw the switch, and a terrific burst of orange flame swallowed the whole center of the Lassan monster. Prepared though they were for the shock, the force of the explosion threw the ship out of control. It gyrated frantically, spinning up, down and sidewise, as Sherman worked the stick. The Catskills reared up at them; shot past in a whirl of greenery; then with a splash they struck the surface of the Hudson. Fortunately, the _Monitor's_ wings were extended, and took up most of the shock at the cost of being shattered against her sides. Through the beam-hole at the stern the water began to flow into the interior of the ship. "Give her the gun!" called Sherman frantically, working his useless controls. There was a report, a shock, a vivid cloud of steam, and dripping and coughing like a child that has swallowed water in haste, the _Monitor_ rose from the stream, her broken wings trailing behind her. "I don't know--whether--I can fly--this crate or not," said Sherman, trying to make what was left of the controls work. "Shoot, Murray--if we put on enough power--we won't have to soar." There was a renewed roar of explosions from the _Monitor_. Desperately, swinging in a wide curve that carried her miles out of her way, she turned her nose southwards. "Make Philly," cried Sherman cryptically, above the sound of the explosions that were driving their craft through the air at over six hundred miles an hour. Almost as he said it, they saw the airport beneath them. The _Monitor_ swerved erratically; the explosions ceased; she dived, plunged and slithered to a racking stop across the foreshore of the seaplane port, ending up with a crash against a float, and pitched all four occupants from their seats onto the floor. "Well, that's one for you and one for me," said Sherman as he surveyed the wreckage ruefully. "We used up that green ball all right, but the old _Monitor_ will never pop another one. Did anyone notice whether there were any pieces left, by the way?" "I did," said Gloria. "As we came up out of the water I could see a few hunks lying around on the hill." "Mmm," remarked Sherman, "they must be built pretty solid. Wish I knew what was in them; that's one thing I never did get through that thought-helmet. Probably something they just figured out. You gave her all the power we had, didn't you?"