the man with her had been slain."

"This is the one," admitted Vulcar. "There is an arrow wound--a fresh
one--in his side. When we took the girl, the man with her was struck by
an arrow. But we thought he had died from a blow from one of our clubs;
it seems impossible that he has survived its force."

For several minutes the ruler of Sephar sat lost in thought, his eyes on
the giant Cro-Magnon. This wild man's fate was in his hands, and his
alone. As a slave the man would make an excellent guard or warrior--that
is, were he tractable, amenable to discipline. Yet something warned him
this man would recognize no authority or law beyond his own. Such a
slave would only stir up unrest, perhaps open rebellion among his
fellows.

And so Urim made his decision.

"Confine him to the pits, Vulcar," he commanded in dismissal. "He is to
take part in the Games."

Vulcar led them out. A few moments later the two prisoners were standing
within the mammoth dungeon, watching silently as the great door swung
shut, hearing the heavy bars fall into place.

* * * * *

Hardly had Tharn left the throne-room when Dylara and Nada entered,
accompanied by two guards.

An amazing transformation had been made in the appearance of Majok's
daughter. The stained animal skin, that once had afforded an inadequate
covering, was gone--replaced by a sleeveless tunic that fell from throat
to knees. Her luxuriant curls of deep brown were neatly drawn behind her
ears; on her feet were strong sandals of leather.

She hesitated slightly at sight of many strange faces, the serried ranks
of motionless warriors about Urim's elevated throne, and, finally, the
lordly figure of Urim, himself.

Regaining confidence, she walked slowly through the press of Sepharians
as they cleared a pathway to the foot of Urim's chair.

Both women and their escorts halted a few paces short of the steps.
Three heads were humbly lowered; Dylara alone gazed artlessly up at the
monarch.

Urim hid his smile with a casual hand. Were all cave-people so difficult
to impress? This savage girl was a beauty, though; the other women of
the room certainly suffered by comparison. By the God! If there were not
a hundred suitors at her heels before long he would have missed his
guess. Even old Uglor, that confirmed misogynist, was staring at her,
his heart in his eyes!

"Is this girl in your care, Nada?" he asked.

"She is, O Urim."

"She understand