it. That his plan should be working out, seemed to him a perfectly
obvious, inevitable thing. The only factor that could possibly have
astonished him, just now, would have been the nonappearance of that
slight, luminous cloudlet at the precise spot and moment designated.

Neither Bohannan, Alden, nor Rrisa was watching the slow descent of
the lethal gas. All three had their eyes fixed on their own lethal-gas
pistols and on their watches. At mathematically the correct second,
Bohannan discharged his piece, correctly sighting direction and
elevation.

As he pressed trigger, a light sighing eased itself from the slim
barrel. Something flicked through the leaves; and, almost on the
instant, the phenomenon of the little phosphorescent spot repeated
itself, though in a different place from the first one. Captain
Alden's and Rrisa's shots produced still other blurs of virescence.

Then, as they all waited, crouching, came another and another tiny
explosion, high aloft, at precisely ten-second intervals. Here, there,
they developed, until twenty-nine of these strange, bubble-like things
had burst above and all about the huge enclosure. Then darkness and
silence once more settled down.

Nothing seemed to have happened. Night still reigned, starry with
glimpses of sky through wind-swayed trees. One would have said
everything still remained precisely as it had been before.

Yet presently, within the stockade or near it, a certain uneasy
_mélange_ of sounds began to develop. Here a cry became audible, there
a command. A startled voice called an order, but suddenly fell silent,