rrier was removed there would be a general rush which the shaken
aviators could not hope to stay.

* * * * *

Suddenly, Alden uttered a low shout and pointed to the small, oval
door which had, up to this point, remained securely bolted and shut.
It was swinging gradually open, rimmed with a strong reddish light.

Wide-eyed, and with black hair streaming lank over his forehead,
Nelson, in the act of reloading, swung about to meet this new menace.
Hell! What point was there in prolonging the pitiful struggle? What
was happening?

Slowly, the door swung back, and a rosy glow lit the opening, a glow
that became as strong as the gleam of a spotlight. Then, slowly, a
glittering, green-crested helmet of highly polished bronze appeared,
and, under it, Hero Giles' familiar features, now distorted by a
terrible fear. The blue eyes seemed enormous. "Quickly!" he called.
"Quick or ye are lost!"

Unbelieving of the reprieve, both the aviators stared an instant at
that martial figure clad in brazen armor liberally studded with
enormous diamonds and emeralds, then leaped forward with the speed of
desperation, for from behind came a fierce squalling from the
allosauri. As he darted towards the door Nelson had a glimpse of the
carcass blocking the door commencing to slip sidewise.

Alden was already out and Nelson sped through the door barely in time
to escape the razor-sharp talons of the foremost allosaurus as it
scrambled into the deserted cell with a resounding bellow of
disappointed fury.

CHAPTER VIII

As the door clanged shut, drowning out the allosauri's furious
screams, both aviators, shaken to the depths of their beings, could do
nothing but stare about them in surprise. Completely surrounding and
protecting the exit stood a double rank of hoplites in bronze armor.
Like unreal automata, they remained utterly motionless, fixed in the
various postures of an ancient Macedonian phalanx, their broad backs
gleaming dully in the light of the neon flares. As in a dream, Nelson
recognized on top of each spearsman's casque the graceful Atlantean
military crest--a metal dolphin from the back of which sprouted a
series of bright blue feathers, arranged like a dorsal fin.

"Thank Poseidon, ye still live!" cried Hero Giles, gripping their
hands eagerly. "I had fear for ye, oh my friends."

Nelson grinned. "You cut the rescue act pretty fine, but of course
we're damned grateful. And now,"--eagerl