The guard nodded, and vanished down the trail again. Moe turned to
Matthews, a queer look in his eyes. "What do you think, Matt?"
"I think our time is running out," said Matthews.
"Maybe you worry too much."
"Maybe."
Moe's eyes blazed. "They _can't_ try to launch it," he snarled. "It's
got to be smashed--smashed so hard they'll never dare try to make
another one--" His hand clenched on his rifle until the knuckles were
white.
Matt leaned forward eagerly. "Let me go down there, Moe. We've got
dynamite. I could find a way to climb the fence, maybe, and start the
works off. Once something went bang from the inside and broke their
control of the place, we could mop them up."