The lunatic had indeed made thorough preparation for his planned attack against the world!
I cut off the engine of my machine, set the motor to whirling, and dropped silently toward the circle of darkness about the rim of the crater. In fifteen minutes more I had landed it on a bare, rocky slope. I waited a moment, but there was no sign that my coming had been observed, so presently I left the plane, with my automatic in my hand, wishing I knew how to operate the strange weapon in my pocket.
I spent several hours slipping about in the shadows among the fallen boulders on the bank of talus about the rim, looking down into the brightly lit crater. At last, I came down in the shadow of an isolated building of gray concrete, with slender masts rising above it—the hidden radio station.
In an open space before it, flooded with light, I saw a strange machine. It was like one of the red airplanes, but the closed fuselage was so large that it looked almost like a small dirigible balloon, while the short wings were no larger than those of the ordinary machines. It occurred to me that the "negative-gravity" gas was probably used to lift it.
As I stood watching it, I saw a party coming aboard. There were a dozen soldiers, in red uniform. Among them I recognized the short figure of Vars, the maniac, if he was a maniac. And behind him were three closely guarded figures, one of them evidently a woman. Were they my three lost friends? I had every reason to think they were. Vars had promised not to injure Ellen or the Doctor, had implied that he wished to take them with him.
I was still watching when I heard a light footstep behind me. I whirled quickly, only to receive the sharp point of a bayonet against my chest.
"Drop it!" a sharp voice commanded as I tried to raise my automatic. The pressure back of the keen blade was somewhat increased, and I obeyed.
"Where did you come from, anyway?" the voice inquired.
I said nothing.
"Then I'll give you a chance to tell somebody else, Pard."