His eyes were searching, searching. And a surge of excitement suddenly
thrilled him.
Two shots came on the same instant. One slithered hotly in the flesh
of his shoulder, but the other struck wide of him.
The wound gave him no concern. Every sense, every faculty was
concentrated on one thought, on one object. A dim, fine-drawn but
uneven line of shadowy light had grown out of the darkness to his now
accustomed eyes. It was vague, so vague that it required the greatest
concentration to detect. But he recognized it for what it was, and a
savage delight possessed him as he observed that there were breaks in
its continuity. The line was waist high, and lateral, and he
interpreted it to suit himself.
He raised his gun and took steady aim at one of the breaks. His shot
was deliberate, careful, since the sight of his weapon, even the weapon
itself, remained invisible in the dark. He fired, and dropped himself
prone behind his barrier.
A bitter curse followed by a groan of pain was the answer to his shot.
Pages:
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477