With strange agility, almost apelike in its prehensile power, a human figure came clambering up over the outer works, clutching at stays, wires, struts.
Other shouts echoed thinly in the rarefied, high air.

The climber laughed with savage mockery.
"I've done for _you_!" he howled exultantly.

"Fuel-tanks afire--you'll all go to Hell blazing when they explode! But first--I'll get the boss pirate of the outfit--" Swiftly the clutching figure scrabbled in over the rail, dropped to the metal plates of the take-off--now slanting steeply down and forward--and broke into a staggering run directly toward the gallery where stood Bohannan and the Master.
At the little ladder-housing sounded a warning shout.

The head and shoulders of Captain Alden became visible there.

In Alden's right hand glinted a service-revolver.
But already the attacker--the stowaway--had snatched a pistol from his belt.