Beyond him came Spartan, in the other Mars-car, hitting high speed on the sand. I thought of the garrison rushing to rescue the besieged wagon train in the woolly frontier days.
"Bill Drake!" Axel called, his voice wedging into the chattering Martian voices.
"Billdrake—billdrake—" mocked the Martians.
I braked the car and Axel scrambled toward the locks as the Martians appeared on the rim of the canal behind me.
Axel took one apprehensive glance in that direction before he climbed aboard.
"Tain't human!" he gasped, which was the understatement of the solar system.
Dr. Spartan's Mars-car halted about two hundred yards south of us. I saw him climbing out of the locks, his rifle in his hand.
"Tanetooman," chanted the Martians.
"This way, Drake!" Spartan signaled with his arms that I was to pass to his left.
"Thiswaydrake—" screamed my earphones in raucous echo. "Billdrake—tanetooman—yessir—"