The clanging grew louder now.
It would be one of them. One of them with a warning, and if he did not open up, surrender.... But the blue light still blinked.
He could have missed them. As he swung the screen, they could have been running in an area yet untouched—the last ten degrees....
The clanging was lessening.
He hauled down the knife-switch marked "STERN PORT."
The clanging ceased.
And then, muffled almost to inaudibility, a wild, far-off yell. "Shut it, Dad, for the luvva mike, SHUT it!"
And he jammed the switch home.
There was an awful racket then. An awful, wonderful racket. Mike, Terry, clambering hell-bent up the spiraling cat-walks! Mike, Terry, safe aboard....