But, this did not reassure the earth-man as much as it might.
“It would seem to me,” he asserted, “that this very fact would put Prince Yuri on his guard.”
“Possibly so,” Nan-nan ruefully admitted, “but it will take four days for investigators to cover the thousand stads from Kuana to here by kerkool, two days by bee.”
“And in the meantime,” Myles countered, “it will take our plane two days to reach Kuana, and our kerkools four.”
“Then,” Emsul suggested, “had we not better march openly and at once?”
This suggestion was accepted, with the reservation, however, that the return of Cabot and the existence of their plane were to be kept as secret as possible.
Accordingly the main body of the troops were put on the march toward Kuana, under Emsul, with instructions to requisition every available kerkool, wreck every radio set, and place every settlement under martial law. The kerkools, as fast as seized, were to be manned by the best sharpshooters, and sent ahead.
The local village and the lobster pond were placed under heavy guard, and the earth-man with his plane and rifle remained under cover.
That night, just at sunset, he started forth. The airship had been stripped to its lightest, and in it were crowded Myles Cabot, Hah Babbuh, Nan-nan, and half a dozen sharpshooters. Long before morning, they came up with the lights of the foremost kerkools, and so were forced to cease their advance, whereupon they landed, and encamped for the rest of the night and the following day.
All day long, kerkools passed them on the road, stopping to report as they passed. Apparently a surprising number of these swift two-wheeled Porovian autos had been captured.