Garth nodded. He grasped his partner's arm and moved forward slowly, saying: "Careful now; we'll try to reason with him."
They had almost reached the fire when they saw Chiswell's hand come up again with unexpected swiftness. They fell flat upon the rock, and just in time, as the ray flashed close above them. Garth realized they must have been easily visible in the fire-glow, and could have kicked himself for a fool.
But now Prokle was chuckling. "Didn't you notice?" he whispered. "That last ray was dim, it didn't much more than reach us. His charge must be getting low. A couple more like that and it'll be finished."
A few minutes they lay there, watching, as Chiswell made no further move. They could see the cave plainer now, a cave as high as Chiswell's head, but narrow, extending darkly back into the towering rock.
Without warning Prokle leaped up, ran a few feet forward and flopped down again, just as Chiswell's ray stabbed over him.
"Prokle! You damn fool!" Garth crept forward beside him.
"It's all right. I doubt if he has another full charge in that gun now."
"Chiswell!" Garth called, but softly. "We're your friends, don't you understand that? Put down the gun. We've come to take you away from here!"
For the first time, then, they heard the madman's voice. It was just as soft as Garth's had been, but cunning. The voice spoke five words:
"I know what you want!"