his feet, jerking him toward the building.

They stumbled through the door together. Ward fell to the floor as Halliday wheeled and slammed the door, throwing the automatic bolts with the same motion.

Halliday knelt beside Ward.

"Good work," he said huskily. "They were holding me. I don't know what they were planning. Those bombs blew them into little pieces. Luckily I got through the blast all right." He gripped Ward's arm suddenly. "You came through too, son."

"No," Ward said dully. "I didn't. I ran out on you. I'm a fool, a yellow fool."

"A coward wouldn't have come back," Halliday said quietly. "We're going to lick this job together, from now on. We've found a weapon to use against the Raspers. I never thought of high explosives."

He grinned suddenly and the tightness was leaving his mouth. "It doesn't seem so terrible when you've got something to fight back with."

Ward looked up at Halliday and a faint smile touched his own lips. "Someone to fight with, means a lot, too," he said. He suddenly grinned. "You've lost your glasses."

"I won't miss them," Halliday said. "I didn't need them. I wore them to give me something to do, that's all. But we're going to have plenty to do, now."

Ward swallowed with difficulty. He knew that in his wild, thoughtless act of heroism he hadn't redeemed himself. Redemption would come from a lifetime of playing the game the way men like Halliday did. But the chance was there for him, and he was glad that he could start immediately.

"Whatever you say," he said. He grinned, and added, "—boss."