Hold hard, sir!" Almost at once, the Master also got a glimpse of two tiny pin-pricks of crimson, high in air above the city-mass.

Swiftly _Nissr_ drew over the building.

Far, very far down in the chasm of emptiness, tiny strings of light--infinitesimal luminous beads on invisible threads--marked Broadway, Fifth Avenue, countless other streets.

The two red winks drew almost underneath.
Down plunged the searchlight, picking _Niss'rosh_ out of the gloom.
Through the floor-glass, the Master could descry it clearly.

He slowed, circled, playing with vacuum-lift, helicopters, engines, as if they had been keys of a familiar instrument.