, went through the far door dragging
their late adversary ignominiously by the heels. Amid the lessened
publicity of the distant hall, Peter checked the man and shrugged. "He
may live," he said coldly, "if he doesn't bleed to death."

"You really ought to take 'em on the high side," said Buregarde,
plaintively. "All I've got is my teeth to grab with. They don't bleed so
bad from the ankle."

"They don't stay stopped that way either," said Peter harshly.

"You'd not be getting any praise from the Chief for that sort of
brutality."

"If Xanabar weren't rotten to the core, we wouldn't be plowing through
it in the first place. Now, let's get going."

"Shouldn't you call for the rest of the crew?"

"Not until I'm certain the girl's here. I'd hate to cut the city-wide
search for cold evidence."

"She's here. I scent her."

"Maybe it's past tense, Buregarde. Or maybe it's another woman."

"Could be. But one thing: It is definitely Terrestrial woman." The dog
sniffed again. "You get anything?"

"No more than before. It's close and they're the same set of impressions
Yet, any woman would be frantic with fear and concern."

"I ... _shhh_!" Buregarde's sharp ears lifted instinctively at a distant
sound not heard by the man. With a toss of his head, the dog folded one
ear back, uncovering the inner shell. Like a sonic direction finder,
Buregarde turned his head and listened.

"Man," he said finally with a low growling voice. "Peter, there'll be
hell to pay around here directly. He's stumbled over our recent
conquest."

"Let's get cutting!"

* * * * *

Peter started trying doors and peering in; the dog raced on ahead of the
man, sniffing deep at the bottom of each. It was the dog that found the
room. He called, "Here!" and Peter raced forward just as the fellow on
the stairs yelled something in his native tongue.

Peter hit the door with the heel of his foot and slammed it open by
splintering the doorframe. The dog crouched low and poised; Peter
slipped in and around feeling for a light-switch. From inside there was
a voiceless whimper of fright and from outside and below there came the
pounding of several sets of heavy feet. Peter found the switch and
flooded the room with light. The girl--whether she was Miss Vanessa
Lewis or someone else, and kidnap-wise it was still a Terrestrial
girl--lay trussed on the bed, a patch of surgical tape over her mouth.

"Sorry," said Peter in a v