e puny
child in the grip of his nurse.

Milo spoke no word. He gave no more attention to Venner's futile blows
than to the whispering of the sands of the shore. But bearing ever
toward the other two men, now seemingly paralyzed out of all volition by
the awful exhibition of strength, he reached out with his free hand and
added Tomlin to his capture as he had taken Venner.

Pearse might even now have made his bid for liberty; but he was no
coward to desert his companions. He uttered a choking cry of mingled
fear and defiance, and rushed in between his friends to swing a heavy
blow with his fist fair upon the giant's unprotected temple. Now Milo
gave sign of interest. He laughed: a deep, rumbling, pleasant laugh of
appreciation for the courage that prompted the blow; but he never
blinked at the impact, nor did he attempt to avoid another blow that
came swiftly. Simply putting forth a greater effort of muscle he swung
his two captives apart, held them at arm's length while the sinews of
his mighty chest and beamlike arms writhed and rippled like snakes, and
rushed upon Pearse with the terrible resistlessness of an avalanche. A
shower of blows pounded his face and breast as he closed, then he
laughed again; this time triumphantly; for Pearse was enfolded between
Venner and Tomlin in a hug that spelled suffocation did he persist in
his struggles.

The swift conquest had taken but minutes; none but a few women of the
camp had seen it; and they, well used to such scenes, simply chattered
and smiled pityingly, not with pity for the men, but for the futility of
their resistance. Milo, scarcely breathing above normal, called loudly:
"Pascherette!" and gave his prisoners another quieting squeeze.

Pascherette was with her mistress. She did not answer, and Milo called
again: "Pascherette!"

The other women drew near, and on many a wickedly fair face shone a
light of hope that its wearer might serve in Pascherette's place, no
matter what the errand; for it was not the _petite_ golden octoroon
alone who had sighed for love of the giant.

"Pascherette is with the Sultana, Milo. Let me answer for her," spoke
out a dark beauty whose sparkling eyes held the craft and wisdom of a
harpy.

"I--" and "I--" came other voices, and the women gathered around. "What
do you need, good Milo?"

"Open three chambers behind the council hall. In each must be a
fettering ring. Make speed. Go!"

The women ran, and Milo made his capture more c