pocket.

"This goes on well," he commented to the major. "So far, we are within
three minutes, eighteen seconds, of schedule."

The little group of four stood waiting, watching, while the others
carried out all orders, aboard. There was no hesitation, no confusion.
Each had already learned the exact plan of the airship. Each knew
precisely where every door led, what each passageway meant; each
understood perfectly his own post and what to do there.

Two by two, Legionaries came down the gangplank, bearing limp bodies.
These they laid in a row along the stockade, till seventeen had
accumulated. No more came.

A figure appeared in the sliding doorway, and saluted.

"The last sleeper is out, sir," he reported.

The Master nodded, and gestured to his three companions. The group of
four ascended the sharp tilt of the plank and entered the airship. As
they did so, Legionaries hoisted the plank aboard, with its tackle,
and lashed it to the waiting chocks. Others could be heard, in the
penetralia of the vast structure, coming, going, busily at work.

The entrance door slid shut. A bolt shot home. All the Legion was now
aboard, and communication with the ground had been broken.

The four men found themselves in a brightly lighted corridor that led
directly across the fuselage to a similar door on the other side. This