_Viking's_ hull. The blades of the big propellors went spinning into
space, their shafts bent and crumpled like straws in a gale. Robbed of
their support, essential when lacking rocket power of at least 300 miles
per hour, the space-ship plunged downward like a falling star. She
struck the waters of the lake with a mighty splash. Spray dashed as high
as the walls of Lansa's castle, and when it was gone the space-ship had
vanished.

* * * * *

Gerry Norton stood motionless. He was staring at the muddy and foam
flecked waters of the lake, and at the spreading ripples that still beat
on the shore as the effect of that mighty splash subsided. At the moment
he felt old and tired and defeated, his brain numbed. The _Viking_ was
gone! Freckled Steve Brent, and the cheerful Portok, and all the rest of
them were gone. Buried deep in the muddy bottom of a Venusian lake.

The second expedition from Earth to this cloud-veiled and ill-fated
planet had also ended in disaster. In the future the _Viking_ would be
classed with the _Stardust_--simply another luckless space-ship that
sailed away into the void and vanished. The men of her crew and what
they tried to accomplish would be forgotten, their names would only
remain on some yellowing record buried in the maze of government files.
So deep was Gerry Norton's bitter brooding that he scarcely heard the
words Angus McTavish was shouting in his ear.

"Come on, Gerry lad! Let's get away while there's all this confusion."

* * * * *

Ever since they had been brought to this field beside the lake, Angus
had been working at his bonds. He was a very strong man anyway, and the
swell of his earthly muscles was far greater than the strength of any of
the races that the Scaly Ones were accustomed to making prisoners. While
the attention of all the guards was absorbed in the appearance and
subsequent wreck of the _Viking_, Angus had managed to snap his own
bonds and was now unhurriedly freeing Gerry's wrists.

Gerry ran to Closana and untied her hands, while Angus freed the nearest
other prisoner who was a stocky and broad shouldered Green Man with a
heavily lined face. As soon as his hands were free, the latter wheeled
to face them.

"My thanks, _hiziren_!" he panted, "now go while you can. You are more
easily spotted in a crowd than I. Hurry! I will free as many of these
others as possible. Get into the city, and try to re