He whispered, "Stay in the skiff, Martha. You can push off if I fail." And added quickly, "Don't you see, if I do fail, you'll be the last hope left."
He gave her no time to argue. He gripped the Venn gun, and started through the darkness.
There was no doubt about directions. Huge now against the stars loomed the Statue. And in it, if Pudgy had told truth, were Lee Kendrick—and the four of Fairlie's secret police who guarded him.
Wales crossed the park with his stubby gun held high. The grass was tall and ragged from long lack of care. And there was not a sound, or a light, on the little island.
He circled around to the front of the Statue, and stared up at the parapet of the mighty pedestal, and the entrance to the giant figure.
Nothing. No light, no sound of movement.
Wales felt a chill of dismay. He had not realized how much he had begun to hope, until now.
Brr-rumble—
He heard the first preliminary roar from the west, and immediately he dropped flat behind a shrub.