covered her head and face, and the golden silk robe she
wore. To Quirl, watching from a space of some sixty feet, her beauty
came like a shock. He remembered her as Lenore Hyde, whom he had seen
only once before as she emerged briefly from her stateroom.

About five feet, six inches tall, her slim figure was dwarfed by the
huge bulk of the mate. Her golden hair tumbled over her slim
shoulders, almost to her waist, where a tasseled cord held the
clinging silk close to her. Her face, so white that it seemed like
silver in that gorgeous setting, was cold and defiant. There was no
fear in those deep blue eyes under the straight brows--only loathing
and contempt.

Gore was not concerned with the personal feelings of his prize. He
licked his wide, cruel lips, seizing the girl's arms as in a vise. His
other big, dirty hand slipped into the collar of her robe.

* * * * *

But the ripping of fabric did not come. Instead there was a sharp
crack, and Gore, too surprised even to move, stared at the little man
who had hit him.

Again _crack_! The impact of fist on jaw. The blow was too weak to
hurt this toughened veteran of countless battles. But slowly a tide of
dull red welled up over the bull neck, turning the blue-black jowls to
purple, and the walls echoed to Gore's roar of anger.

Again the fists of the smaller man smacked, this time drawing a
trickle of blood from Gore's mouth. Then the thick fingers closed on
the brave passenger's wrist, and the tremendous muscles swelled as,
with a quick movement, Gore thrust his adversary back of him, grasping
the other wrist also. Then with slow, irresistible motion, he began
drawing the thin arms forward, stretching them, until the unfortunate
man, drawn against the barrier of Gore's back, began to shriek with
pain.

Still Gore pulled, grinning evilly, and his victim's shoulder blades
lifted under the tight skin of his back as they took the strain.
Shriek followed shriek, until the guard on the platform glanced
furtively out into the central well. There came a dry, tearing crackle
as the bones of the arms were drawn out of their sockets, and then the
shrieks ceased as merciful unconsciousness came. Gore tossed the limp
body carelessly away.

"The beast!" Quirl gritted his teeth. But he stayed where he was,
hiding his clenched fist, for his was a specific assignment, and men
of the I.F.P. know the meaning of the word "duty."

In a better humor a