Captain Taylor threw himself on the ground. But there was no blast.

The red of the sky-glow suddenly faded to orange. Up through the roof of the casting room crashed a huge, glowing sphere then floated like a will-o'-the wisp in the moonlight.



CHAPTER II

THE SPHERES

When the sentry faced the captain again, he stared into the mouth of a service pistol.

"Sorry," said the officer, "but I've got to get inside." Captain Taylor turned to Masters. "Keep him covered. I'll be back unless the bomb goes off."

"The bomb," whispered Norden, fearfully, "should have exploded. I was double-crossed. They sent me here to get caught! The dirty--"

"Watch Norden, and you might keep your eye on Funky, here," Taylor said, pointing to the slobbering man who had dropped to his knees at the sight of the orange sphere. "I'm going inside."

The captain moved through the gate. The silence was uncanny. Since the war began this factory had never been idle. Thousands of cannon made; contracts for countless more! But now quiet, save for an undescribable, whispering overtone that seemed to permeate the air.

Something glowed in the semi-darkness ahead like a pile of hot ashes on the ground.

Taylor entered the long forge room. A white hot splinter of metal hung from the crane. There were a dozen heaps of the glowing ashes scattered about the room, but no sign of life.

He moved on into the finishing room, where the long tubes of howitzers and field pieces lay in various stages of construction. Still there was silence.

The whispering grew louder, like a breeze stirring dry cornstalks.

The silence suddenly was broken by a scream. Then another. There was a sound of running footsteps.

Taylor dropped behind a lathe.

Through the door came an orange glow. Sharply outlined against the eerie light ran a human figure, a man in overalls, carrying a hammer. On the fellow's face was frozen fear. He halted, turned and looked behind him.

The darkness vanished as through the doorway floated a huge, orange sphere of light.

"Stop! Go back! I mean you no harm!" screamed the workman.

The ball of orange fire floated on toward him. The man's arm raised. He hurled the hammer straight at the sphere.

The missile rang, bounced back and fell to the sandy floor.

A small flicker of flame wafted over the surface of the sphere. Then it lashed out like a whip toward the trembling man. His entire body glowed like a torch, then crumpled to the floor in a heap of ashes.

* * * * *

Scarcely daring to breathe, the captain watched the sphere float over the ashes of its victim for a moment; then, apparently satisfied that the man no longer lived, floated back through the doorway.

Taylor took a deep breath. It might be well if the bomb would explode, but he knew now it had been silenced.

In an insulated panel on the wall were the remains of an electric switchboard. The copper switches were fused, the wires burned through. The huge cables that brought the electric current to the switchboard lay molten on the floor.