asting flame
high from their peaks.

"Alden!" he groaned. "Oh God, Alden, don't fail me!"

Chilled by the fate in store, he scanned the dark and hostile faces
below, but found no friendly visage.

Up and up. The procession was now nearing the summit.

There were hosts of poignant problems before him, each vital if Altara
and the Empire of Atlans were to be saved; but one primary question
immediately confronted him. How could he get his hands free? He
ventured a few words in English to the stolid Atlantean at his side,
whereat the fellow only stared dully and shook his red, flower-crowned
head.

He next tried to cautiously work loose his hands, but to no avail. The
rope of plaited skin binding his aching wrists together was tough as
any rawhide. Cursing, he abandoned the effort, and, as his eyes once
more swept the great bloodthirsty throng below, he felt himself doomed
indeed.

CHAPTER XI

Standing at last on the summit of the great Ziggurat, Nelson found
himself staring up at the fearsome golden image of the dread demon
Beelzebub. The god stood some twelve feet in height and had a hideous
human face, but, in place of hair and beard, countless golden tubes
writhed in all directions. From the end of one, the puzzled prisoner
beheld several tiny feathers of steam creeping forth, indicating that
these hairs were a species of steam vent.

When, with the other captives, he was made to halt near its base, he
further discovered that the idol sat upon a throne of yellow marble,
the sides of which were carved with Sanskrit characters, necessarily
quite meaningless to the doomed aviator.

In a grim and silent rank before Beelzebub's feet, stood some six or
eight priest-executioners bending their black-robed bodies against the
strong wind which swept that ghastly pinnacle.

Just below the base of the image, Nelson noted several great, copper
coils, no doubt conducting steam from the interior of the Ziggurat.
Between the knees of Beelzebub rested a huge, shallow bowl, the use of
which puzzled the American not a little, for he saw that the base of
this ornate receptacle was also wrapped with a number of steam coils.
Two great hands, ending in cruel-looking claws, were stretched
horizontally above the demon's knees, seeming to plead for victims.

* * * * *

Suddenly a deep toned brazen gong sounded somewhere below; the
trumpeters blew an ear-piercing note; and, at a gesture from the hi