nward until, parting the foliage with a
stealthy hand, he made out the figure of a tall muscular warrior
standing in the trail, his attitude that of a sentry.

Tharn felt his pulses quicken as a new emotion came to him. In all his
twenty-two years he had never been called upon to take a human life, and
he found the prospect somewhat disquieting. Yet it was just such a
purpose that he had in mind and there was no point in wasting time with
self-analysis.

Noiselessly he slid to the ground and stepped onto the trail a few paces
behind the stranger. With infinite stealth he lessened the space between
the unsuspecting warrior and his own half crouched figure. Forgotten was
the knife at his belt; his purpose was to close fingers about the
other's throat.

Now, he was sufficiently near. The muscles of his legs tensed for the
spring--and the enemy whirled to face him!

* * * * *

When the guard saw the young giant's nearness and threatening position,
his eyes flew wide in surprise and fear. His jaw dropped, but no sound
came; his arms seemed frozen to his sides.

Before he could recover, Tharn was upon him. As the young cave-man's
fingers clamped on the stranger's throat, a knee came up with savage
force into Tharn's stomach, almost tearing loose his hold. But the
maneuver cost the man his balance, and he fell backward with Tharn's
weight across his chest.

Frantically the warrior fought to loosen the terrible grip cutting off
his breath. He clawed wildly at the iron fingers, struck heavy blows at
his attacker's face and body. But Tharn only tightened his hold, waiting
grimly as the efforts to dislodge him became increasingly weaker. Then a
convulsive shudder passed through the body, followed by complete
limpness. The man was dead.

Tharn got to his feet. For a long moment he stood there, staring in
wonder at the dead, distorted face. His thoughts were a jumble of
conflicting emotions: pride at vanquishing a grown man by bare hands
alone; strong satisfaction in an enemy's death; and a feeling of guilt
at taking a human life. What was it that Barkoo had told him, long ago?

"Death cannot be understood, completely, by one who has never killed. A
true warrior takes no life without knowing regret. Slay only when your
life is in danger, or when someone has wronged you. Those who kill for
the love of killing are beneath the beasts; for beasts kill only for
cause."

Tharn stooped, swung the