"John! The gun exploded!" cried Phil in amazement. "I've only seen that happen once before!—Remember that crewman who wouldn't take the trouble to keep his gun clean?" John was thinking fast.
"I remember," he said in a low voice. His heart was still racing from the reaction of his near brush with death. "There's a pattern here. If I could only get a chance to talk over things sensibly with this Third Sarge...."
There was great excitement among the soldiery. Several of the men were crowded around the corpse of the marksman. Elfor stood nervously, his hand on his own holstered gun.
"They're concealing weapons," he barked to his aides. "Search them!"
A squad of guards swarmed over the four prisoners. There was an excited twitter when they discovered the pocket transmitters. They removed the little packets, snapping the aerial wires, and carried them to Elfor. He glanced at them, took one in his hand, and ordered:
"Execute them!"
Another guard with a heat-gun took his position in the center of the courtyard. He handled the weapon somewhat gingerly, but checked its mechanism and prepared to follow orders.
He waited for the command from Elfor. But the Third Sarge now was staring hard at the little transmitter in his hand. Instead of ordering the guard to fire, he strode across the courtyard and thrust the tiny radio before John's face.
"Is this true?" he demanded. He po............