relieved weight of the massive
helmet, the suit itself and the chunky blocks of metal which were the
boots; his every dragging step was that of a man shackled by
chains--but he was Hawk Carse! And so, as he shuffled out through the
front door of the house and lumbered with painful effort across the
clearing, he was surrounded by a glitter of ray-guns held by the
close-pressing circle of men. Tantril's own gun kept steady on his
broad fabric-clad back, and of its proximity he kept reminding Carse.

New guards were already on watch on each of the three
watch-platforms, their eyes sweeping around the clearing and the
jungle and the dark stretch of the lake, and often returning to the
crowd which marked the stumbling giant's progress below. Each point of
defense was manned. In the ranch's central control room, a
steel-sheathed cubby in the basement of Tantril's house, men stood
watchful, their hands ready at the wheels and levers which commanded
the ranch's ray-batteries, their eyes on the vision-screen which gave
to this unseen heart of the place a panoramic view of what was
transpiring above. And all waited on what the grotesque, bloated
figure they watched might reveal.

Watch--watch--watch. A hundred eyes, below, above, beside the Hawk,
were centered and alert on each move of his clumsy progress. The
barrels of two-score ray-guns transfixed him. Under such guard he
arrived at the ranch's fence where it approached the Great Briney.

"Open the gate," said the Hawk curtly. "It's down there."

He pointed to where the lake's pebbled beach shelved downward to the
tiny murmurous waves, a ten-foot stretch of ghostly white between the
guarding fence and the water.

"Down there?" repeated Tantril slowly. "Down to the lake?"

"Yes!" Carse snapped irritably. "Well, will you open the gate? I'm
very tired: I can't bear this suit much longer."

* * * * *

Lar Tantril conferred uneasily with Esret, while his men cast
shivering glances out over the dark wind-rippled plain of the lake.
But no enemy showed there. The beach was clear for fifty yards on each
side.

"By Iapetus!" the adventurer complained harshly, "are you children,
to be afraid of the dark? Tantril, put your gun into me, and shoot if
I try anything suspicious! Open the gate!"

Finally the lock was unfastened and the gate swung out. Tantril
stationed a man there, ready to close and lock it in case of need, and
then, Hawk Carse, sti