"This roaring, glaring, trembling place gives me--" "That! That light in the sky!" cried Flint, excitedly pointing.

"See?
No--it's gone now! But it looked like--like a rocket! A signal, of some kind, thrown from an aeroplane! A--" Waldron laughed harshly.
"Seeing things, eh ?" he sneered, coming across to the window, himself, and peering out.

"_I_ don't see anything! Nothing here to worry about, Flint.

With all these walls and guns, and netting, and air-ships and a private army and all, what more do you want?
Not getting nervous in your old age, are you, eh ?" he gibed bitterly.

"Or is your conscience beginning to wake up, as the graveyard becomes more a probability than--" "Enough!" Flint snapped at him.