squash you!"

The cook's coral face paled almost to white despite himself.

"Listen, big one," he said placatingly. "Have an orange?"

* * * * *

Tolto refused the gift, although he knew this rare and luscious
importation from the Earth and was very fond of it.

"Once more I ask you, bug, where is she?"

"Aw, now, listen!" the cook whined. "Don't blame me! I'm only a
servant around here. How can I help what they do? Don't glare at me
so. Well, she's at Tarog."

"But why--why does she send me away?"

The cook failed to recognize his opportunity to lie in time.

"Well, the fact is--" he hesitated. "The boss--Prince Joro's sending
you away. You see, she's going to get hitched up-big important guy.
They didn't want you around, bustin' up things every time you turn
around. So they're sendin' you back home."

"The princess would not send me home like this," Tolto objected. But
he held his peace, and the cook went back to his work, satisfied that
he had subdued this dangerous prisoner.

In this he was guilty of no greater error than Prince Joro and the
other monarchists. For ages there had been an unfounded opinion that
big men are generally slow and stupid. They may often act so, for
their great strength serves as a substitute for the quick wit of
smaller men. But in Tolto, at all events, this prejudice was wrong. In
Tolto's bullet head was a healthy, active brain, and a primitive
cunning.

So instead of wasting his strength in vain struggles against the tough
steel, he rested, marshalling the facts in his mind.

He utterly rejected the thought that Princess Sira had consented to
his removal in this manner, or in any manner. That meant that she was
being coerced, and Tolto's eyes grew small and hard at the thought.

Presently he began to test the chains. They were of great hardness and
toughness, and so smooth that he could not twist them, for the links
slid over one another harmlessly. However, after much quiet effort he
found that he could shift his body several inches toward either side
of the narrow hold. Here there were a number of locked boxes. One of
them, he reasoned, might contain tools.

His closely confined hands were practically useless. He found that he
could not reach any of the boxes with his fingers, strain as he might.
But he grinned with hope when his head struck one of the handles. His
strong teeth closed down on it.

* * * *