"Not quite yet," he answered. "I've still got one job to do."
Then, so fast the eye could hardly follow, his gun-hand came up.
Bang—bang—bang!
Three shots he fired. Three shots, straight toward the easel in the corner. Dead center into the mirror that stood upon it.
There was a wild tinkling of falling glass. The tablecloth slipped away. Revealed the shattered remnants of the time mirror.
"I'm taking no chances!" cried Vance. "Professor Duchard's reputation as a research physicist is too high." And then, mockingly: "However, I doubt that even he can make any good use of that mirror now!"
With that final sally, he backed away and out the door, the Magnum in his hand still grim and unwavering as he covered Mark and the old scientist.
Curtly:
"I wouldn't come out too soon if I were you."