g
from the chamber on the table, something that chilled the blood in his
veins with horror.

It was huge and utterly loathsome. Long, hairy legs folded out, and
following them came a furry, bloated body at least five feet thick.
Many-faceted eyes fixed themselves coldly on the men on the floor. In
one hideous leap the monster soared from the table all the way to the
room's ceiling, seeming almost to float as it came down. For a moment
it teetered on the floor, not five feet from the giant who, blind and
all unconscious of it, was throttling his diminutive victim beneath
him.

Garth for a second forgot the grip on his throat in the horror of the
monster. He knew at once what it was--a tarantula. It had crawled
inside the chamber when its cage was broken, had been there even while
he had been there, and had been swollen to its present blood-curdling
size while they were fighting and the ray was on. With the smashing of
the apparatus, it was free to come out.

* * * * *

It gathered for the final spring, its terrible legs tensing
perceptibly--a creature out of a nightmare. Garth Howard tried to
shriek out a warning, but Hagendorff was holding his throat too well.
He could only struggle weakly and nod toward the horror beyond; but
the message did not get across to the giant.

Then the tarantula sprang again.

For a moment it seemed to hover on Hagendorff's upturned back. When it
floated down, its ragged legs cradled over him, and the egg-shaped
body squatted on his back....

Garth felt his frayed nerves and senses going. A hairy leg was
touching him, chilling his flesh. Above him, the giant was thrashing
impotently, and he found his neck free of the awful grip.

He wormed free. He was hardly conscious of reaching up and unlocking
the door, and closing it tightly again as he stumbled forth. Later, it
seemed that it was in a dream that he ran wildly into the splendid
sunlight outside and down the winding trail. It was only by a
tremendous effort that he kept his senses long enough to shove the
rowboat out from the beach and hop in.

He never started the motor. All that he had seen and suffered on the
island of horror overcame him too soon, and he pitched down in a limp,
unconscious heap....

* * * * *

And so it was, that, the next morning, the two harbor policemen found
a rowboat with mysterious cargo floating silently down the Detroit
River. So it