Not until the end of five minutes of mad struggling, in which he behaved for all the world like a beheaded chicken, did he find life tolerable again.

The maximum of stifling and of agony passed, and, although he was still weak and giddy, he tottered in the direction of the house and of Nalasu.

And there was no house and no Nalasu--only a debris intermingled of both.
While the shells continued to shriek and explode, now near, now far, Jerry investigated the happening.

As surely as the house was gone, just as surely was Nalasu gone.

Upon both had descended the ultimate nothingness.