possibly arrive soon enough to save Dylara from
death.

But would Meltor do his work promptly? There was a cruel streak in the
man--the same characteristic that made a leopard toy with a victim for
hours before putting an end to its misery. And that girl had been very
beautiful....

She turned. "You may go, Fordak."

The man was worried. "I could not keep from telling, princess. They
burned--"

"Get out!"

Fordak got unhappily to his feet and limped from the room.

"Quick, Anela!" said the princess. "Get to Vulcar at once. I want five
of his most trusted men to meet me at the Gate of the Setting Sun.
Should he ask questions, tell him I will explain later. Go!"

"Where are you going, princess?" the slave-girl asked as she started for
the door.

"Into the jungle," was the calm reply. "To the house of Rydob!"

* * * * *

Seven men stood in a group at the mouth of a trail. Behind them lay a
tract of matted jungle, over them towered the branches of forest kings,
and directly before them was a small clearing containing a rambling,
one-storied building of gray stone, weather-stained and unkempt.

"That must be the place, Jotan," said one of the men. "It answers the
description you gave us."

Jotan nodded. "They must still be in there. Otherwise we should have met
this Meltor on his way back. If only we have arrived in time.

"We must spread out, then come up to the house from all sides. Two of
you go with Tamar and circle around to the east. Keep within the
jungle's fringe that you may not be seen from the house. The rest of us
will close in from this side. You have five minutes to reach your
places. Go."

The minutes dragged by. None of the four appeared to feel an urge to
talk. A heavy silence had fallen on the jungle about them. Even the hum
of insects, the voices of the gaily-colored birds, the chattering
monkeys, were stilled. The same strange tenseness that precedes a
tropical storm, an atmosphere of impending conflict, seemed to hang over
them.

Jotan straightened. "They've had time enough. Come on."

The four men stepped into the clearing, spread fan-wise, and headed for
the building, moving at a half-trot.

The door was closed. In absolute silence they stepped over the heap of
bones that once had been Rydob, mounted the steps and halted there.

Carefully Jotan closed his fingers about the latch. The heavy planks
swung inward enough to satisfy him that there was n