ge open area, for he could hear the excited
chattering and squealing of countless thousands of rat-men on every
side of him.

He was dragged forward a dozen steps more, then brought to a halt.
The blindfolding fabric was roughly stripped from his head. For a
moment he blinked dazedly, half-blinded by a glare of blue light
that flooded the place.

He was standing in a vast cavern. From dozens of fissures high in
the rock walls streamed flickering sheets of blue flame which both
warmed and lighted the place. There was a weird tingling glow in the
air that suggested that the strange blue fires might be electrical
in their origin.

Powell looked eagerly around for Joan, but he could see no trace of
her. The only other living beings in the big cavern were the
swarming thousands of the rat-people. The brutes were apparently too
low in the evolutionary scale to have any but the most primitive
form of tribal organization.

Sitting on a rude rock throne just in front of Powell was a
grotesquely fat, mangy-furred old rat-man who was obviously the king
of the horde. Some thirty or forty rat-men, larger and stronger than
their fellows, wore the gray-metal collars that apparently marked
them as minor leaders.

* * * * *

The great bulk of the horde, numbering far into the thousands,
swarmed in the cavern in one vast animal pack, sleeping, feeding,
snarling, fighting. As Powell was halted before the king's throne,
most of them abandoned their other pursuits to come surging around
the captive in a jostling, curious mob.

The metal-collared leader of the pack that had captured Powell
presented the rat-king with the captive's gun-belt and two Silver
Belts, accompanying the gifts with a squealing oration that was
apparently a recital of the capture. The old monarch took the
trophies with delight.

The two Silver Belts were promptly draped over his own furry
shoulders by the king--seemingly following the same primitive love
for adornment that inspires an African savage to ornament his person
with any new and glittering object he happens to acquire. The
rat-king then graciously draped the cartridge-belt and holstered
automatics around the shoulders of the metal-collared leader who had
captured Powell.

The king turned his attention back to his prisoner. He studied the
captive curiously for a moment or two, then squealed a brief
command. A score of the rat-men promptly closed in upon Powell, and