of Punta Arenas as has rarely
moved through the streets of any city in the world. The long line of
carriages moved at a funereal pace amid a surging, terrified mob. The
Master beamed placidly as he looked out over white, starkly agonized
faces. Some of the people groaned audibly. A few cursed The Master in
their despair. More cursed Bell, not daring to strike or fire on him.
But he would have been torn to bits if he had stepped from the
carriage for an instant.

"Bell," said Jamison dryly, "considering that I'm prepared to be blown
apart on three seconds notice, it is peculiar that this mob frightens
me."

The Master's eyes twinkled benignly. He seemed totally insensible to
fear.

"You need not be afraid," he said gently. "They will not touch you
unless I order them."

Jamison stared down at the little man whose collar he held firmly,
with a Mills grenade dangling down at the base of his neck.

"I wouldn't order them to attack, if I were you," he said coldly. "I
haven't Bell's brains, but I have just as much dislike for you as he
has."

* * * * *

They came to the harbor. Bell spoke again.

"The carriage is to drive out to the end of one of the docks, and no
one else is to go out on that dock."

The Master relayed the order in his mild voice, but as the coachman
obeyed him he clucked his tongue commiseratingly.

"Senor Bell," he protested gently. "You do not expect to escape! Not
after killing me! Why that is absurd!"

Bell said nothing. He alighted from the carriage, his face set grimly,
and stared ashore at the long, long row of terrified faces staring out
at him. The whole waterfront seemed to be lined with staring faces.
Wails came from that mass of enslaved human beings.

"Hold him here, Jamison," he said drearily. "I'm going out to look at
that big plane. There's a rowboat tied to the dock, here."

He swung down the side into the dock and rowed off into the harbor,
while the horses attached to The Master's carriage pawed impatiently
at the wooden flooring of the dock. Bell reached the two planes
anchored on the still harbor water. The smaller one had brought them
down from Buenos Aires. The larger one had gone after the beached
amphibian and brought it and Paula on to the city. Bell, from the
shore, was seen to be investigating the larger one. He came rowing
back.

His head appeared above the dock edge.

"All right," he said tiredly. "The Master has a rule requi