fore him through
the mist of blood, and he put the last ounce of his remaining strength
and every pound of weight behind a straight, clean drive with his
right fist.

His last conscious impression was of a red, clawing hand that was
closed around the thick butt of a tube of steel ... then down, and
still down, he plunged into a bottomless pit of whirling, red flashes
and choking fumes....

There were memories that were to occur to Lieutenant McGuire
afterward--visions, dim and hazy and blurred, of half-waking moments
when strange creatures forced food and water into his mouth, then held
a mask upon his face while he resisted weakly the breathing of sweet,
sickly fumes that sent him back to unconsciousness.

There were many such times; some when he came sufficiently awake to
know that Sykes was lying near him, receiving similar care. Their
lives were being preserved: How, or why, or what life might hold in
store he neither knew nor cared; the mask and the deep-drawn fumes
brought stupor and numbness to his brain.

A window was in the floor beside him when he awoke--a circular window of
thick glass or quartz. But no longer did it frame a picture of a sky in
velvet blackness; no unwinking pin-points of distant stars pricked keenly
through the night; but, clear and dazzling, came a blessed radiance that
could mean only sunshine. A glowing light that was dazzling to his
sleep-filled eyes, it streamed in golden--beautiful--to light the
unfamiliar room and show motionless upon the floor the figure of Professor
Sykes. His torn clothing had been neatly arranged, and his face showed
livid lines of healing cuts and bruises.

McGuire tried gingerly to move his arms and legs; they were still
functioning though stiff and weak from disuse. He raised himself
slowly and stood swaying on his feet, then made his uncertain way to
his companion and shook him weakly by the shoulder.

Professor Sykes breathed deeply and raised leaden lids from tired eyes
to stare uncomprehendingly at McGuire. Soon his dark pupils ceased to
dilate, and he, too, could see their prison and the light of day.

"Sunlight!" he said in a thin voice, and he seemed to know now that
they were in the air; "I wonder--I wonder--if we shall land--what
country? ... Some wilderness and a strange race--a strange, strange
race!"

He was muttering half to himself; the mystery of these people whom he
could not identify was still troubling him.

* *