hape, with sullen, animal
face and pointed head, came slowly erect and staggered upon the floor.
Another--and another! There were scores of the black, naked men who
scrambled from the nearer caskets and swayed drunkenly upon their
feet.

Garry stood tense, his mind a chaos of half-formed plans. This one
brute he might handle, but the whole tribe--that was too large an
order. Yet he knew with an unshakable conviction that he would carry
this girl from their evil clutches or die in the trying.

Feminine charms had failed to interest Garry in that world outside,
but now the message of these soft eyes, the appealing beauty of this
lovely face, proud and unafraid despite her fears, the hand so soft
and trusting upon his face!--there had something entered into Garry
Connell's lonely life that struck deep within him and found a ready
response.

He swept one arm about the soft, yielding body beneath its wisp of
garment, and he swung her behind him as he set himself to meet the
attack. And he flashed her a look that must have carried a message,
for the trembling lips were framing a ghost of a smile as her eyes met
his.

Garry's thoughts darted to the gun, but his tightly-wrapped pack was
in the passage outside. He prayed for a moment's time that he might
meet this mob pistol in hand, and he half turned; but no time was
given. The leader was shouting orders, his harsh voice resounded in
shattering echoes throughout the stone vault, and the horde of blacks
surged forward at his command.

* * * * *

A mass of lean bodies, with faces ugly and brutal where sleep-filled
eyes opened wide and glaring! They crowded upon him, and Garry met the
rush with a rain of straight rights and lefts into the nearest faces.
He was carried backward to the wall by the weight of their numbers,
but he saw some go down for the count.

The room seemed filled with leaping, shouting men. Their shrill cries
echoed in a tumult of discord, and above all Garry heard the hoarse
screams of their leader.

There were fists and arms clubbing at his head. He warded them off,
then sprang from the wall, leaping outward and sideways, where there
was room for free swings of his pounding fists. Another black face
went blank under the impact of his blow--a second--and a third!

He was giving ground slowly as the others came on. Then beyond the
crowding figures he saw one who held a trident spear high in air. The
weapon was poised;