Quirl crept further into his corner. It would be fatal to his plan for
him to attract the attention of this petty tyrant. It was hard enough
to keep away from him--to crush back the almost overwhelming desire to
fly at him, fists hammering.

Gore came down the ladder deliberately, pausing on the lower steps to
look around with his little, pig's eyes. His head was set well forward
on his thick, muscular neck, so that he had to look out from under his
beetling brows in a manner peculiarly ape-like. His heavy face was
smooth-shaven, and his blue-black jowls and chin looked painfully
smooth. His coarse, black hair was brushed back and plastered firmly
to his bullet head.

His body was heavy, but moved with deadly smoothness and precision.
The customary harness which passed around his naked torso supported a
double-barreled ironizing electrocution pistol, and also a short,
savagely knobbed riot club. Depending from the belt at his waist were
short pants, which displayed the thick, hairy legs with their
cable-like muscles. On his feet were thick socks, so that his toes
were able to curl around the rungs of the ladder.

Satisfied with his quick, darting inspection, Gore now came all the
way down. At the foot of the ladder lay an elderly man in the oblivion
of sleep. Gore's foot came down on the thin chest. With savage
pleasure he bore down, so that the old man's startled squawk ended in
a fit of coughing. Gore cuffed him aside roughly, growling:

"Old squiffer! Let that learn you to sleep out of the way!" He laughed
coarsely when one of the prisoners, with the temerity of anonymity,
started to boo, but received no support.

* * * * *

Carelessly Gore passed among the prisoners. Here and there he halted,
snatching some article of finery or inconspicuous bit of jewelry that
he had overlooked before. They shrank from him, only too glad to see
him pass on to the next unfortunate.

"You, there!" Gore rasped, indicating Quirl with his stubby
forefinger. "Come on out o' there, you!"

Quirl hoped that the brutal mate would not hear the thudding of his
beating heart, or that if he did, he would take it for fear. He came
slowly toward Gore, who was greedily eyeing the young man's brightly
colored and valuable tunic. Quirl came too slowly.

"What do you take me for?" Gore bellowed in unreasonable anger. He
strode forward, the prisoners scattering before him. His large, knotty
hand closed on Qui