w ring it!"

The Major was in no mood for finesse: with a vicious shove he sent the
vindictive Pud-Pud sprawling, then turned to Terry, worriedly.

"What are we going to do?"

Terry shook his head, at a loss. This was a contingency he had not
foreseen. He glanced penitently at the melancholy girl, at the old man
who waited, swept the circle of tense faces, then resumed his hopeless
contemplation of the gong overhead.

Swiftly Ahma broke the tableau. Dropping the Major's hand she darted
forward to where Pud-Pud had risen to his knees, her white foot
flashing up to dash from his lips the blow tube he leveled at Terry.
The venomous dart sped aimlessly into the air and fell outside the
ring of Hillmen.

Pud-Pud's violation of the sanctity of council roused Ohto to a wrath
terrible to see. All of the savagery, all of the unbridled fury of a
primitive, passionate nature mounted to his wrinkled face as he
pointed to the culprit with a majestic gesture that summoned the four
armed men. At a word they hustled the terror-stricken savage away to
await Ohto's judgment.

Ahma calmly returned to the Major's side and together they resumed
their hopeless contemplation of the Agong. He peered up till his neck
ached.

"Terry," he whispered, "to ring it you have to strike that little knob
in the center, don't you?"

"Yes."

Then inspiration shone in the Major's face. He eyed Terry covertly.

"Wish we had a rifle," he suggested.

Terry caught his meaning. He fingered his holster but shook his head.
"It can't be done, Major."

"Sure it can--sure _you_ can! I've seen you shoot!"

Terry shook his head but the excited Major insisted: "Try it. Rest
your gun on my head. Sure you can do it--and think what it will
mean--the Hills opened up for all time--think what it will mean to the
Governor--and to the Service!"

The hushed crowd stiffened as they saw the two white men draw back a
hundred feet, wondered as to the character of the strange black thing
the smaller drew from his leather pocket. They watched intently,
thinking to see sorcery wrought before their eyes.

Terry cocked the weapon and resting his wrist upon the tall Major's
head, sighted carefully. A thousand pairs of eyes focussed upon him.
Could the slim white man ring the gong by pointing a magic finger?

The Major, braced for the shock of explosion, felt the iron wrist
tremble, grow limp and lift away. He wheeled around to find Terry
shaking his head, uncertain,