It moved quickly so that I could have but a short glimpse, yet I knew right away that it was no kite, nor a hot-air balloon, nor any other normal man-made construction that I had never heard of.

I must have been dazed as I continued on my way, as I'd nearly forgotten the Donnellys, the detective, my abandoned canvas, and even the raygun I carried with me.

Still, I ran as fast as my strength would propel me, over mossy boulders and through close-knit clumps of trees.

As I passed between two huge old tree trunks, black with moss, something I could only half see swung out and struck me on the back of the neck.

I fell forward onto a bed of decaying evergreen needles and fern leaves, nearly paralyzed by the pain shooting through my extremities. I rolled onto my back, almost doubled over, and saw my assailants.

George Donnelly stood with an evil smile, two pistols in his hands, one of his Mongolian thugs stood nearby. If more were on hand I didn't notice, but in my agony I could have missed Hannibal and all his elephants.

“I don't know who ya are,” the Irish outlaw said, never taking his eyes or guns off of me, “but you were with that detective, that's sure enough. What did you think it would get you, shooting at us?”

“So shoot me, don't try and talk me to death.” I groaned.

“You talk tough, don't ya? Are you a policeman or something?”

“I'm a painter.”

“A what?” George Donnelly started laughing and his henchman took up the laugh himself.

If these two laughing jackasses were going to kill me either way, I saw no reason why I should sit and be laughed at.

I reached for the raygun, but luck was not with me. It was caught up in the belt!

I saw the expression on Donnelly's face change as he realized what I was up to.

I tilted the end of the barrel up as far as I could and pulled the trigger before my assailant could fire.

The rays raced out like striking snakes and blasted into the outlaw's legs. A spreading plume of smoke and light erupted and then came his screams.

I rushed up to my feet and back behind a tree, anticipating a return of fire. I knew from my previous test of the weapon that Black George Donnelly was badly wounded, but from where I'd fired he might still have fight in him. Of his Oriental friend I also had a worry as I'm sure he still carried a rifle or something equally lethal.

To my horror, when the smoke cleared I beheld the Irish rogue lying on the ground, staring down at the blackened stumps of his legs.

The Mongolian stood a few steps away, obviously terrified at the way his compatriot had been mutilated. Who could blame either of them? Who would expect such a weapon?

I had never killed a man, I'd never even shot one. The most I'd done was to knock a few rowdy drunks out of a bar, and in those cases it hardly counted. I couldn't bring myself to fire again, even to put that poor soul out of his misery.

Both men only looked at each other now, and I could hardly stand to stay and watch.

I backed away, back into the thick shadowed growth.

The horror was not yet over, though.

Before I could turn my head away, the hum sound came from someplace and colored rays blasted out from somewhere in the trees, another raygun!

The rays first hit the Mongolian, hitting him in the back and destroying him utterly. He never had a chance. The rays came again and finished off George Donnelly, ending his wicked life in a ruin of red blood and flame.

I leaned against a tree, stunned.

Two figures emerged from their hiding place, the cowardly ambushers. I was hardly surprised now to see that they were not men, but monsters of some variety. My rattled brain dispassionately reasoned that these must belong to the mysterious gun and to the odd metal flying object I'd seen.

The creatures were roughly the size of average men, but they were almost like insects made enormous, covered in hard dark shell or scales. Their bodies were slate-black and shiny, like a beetle, and their heads were spherical and covered in huge lens-like eyes.

The rayguns they carried, though, seemed to differ in various ways from the one I carried. The bulbs along the barrel looked different and there were glass protrusions in places.

Slight sounds came out of the trees near me and I thought again what a cursed and deadly place these woods were. No doubt another bear or some other murderous thing lurked nearby, waiting to work its revenge on me.

A huge fur-covered object jumped down from the branches above and landed on the two insect men!

The two murderous creatures were on their feet too quickly and came at the fur-covered monster like devils. This beast, this Sasquatch or Wendigo or whatever it was, towered over its enemies. Whatever this beast was, its enemies must be my enemies too if they would so willingly shoot one man in the back and then shoot another who was helpless. Despite the nightmare aspect of the hairy giant, I had to root for him.

The man-beast was winning too! He was a blur of fur and fangs, and claws, but he took care of the hellish beetle-men and that counted most.

One of the insect things recovered its raygun, but before he could bring it to bear on giant, a claw swatted down and knocked away the gun and the hand that held it!

That was as good a time as any to make good my escape.