m exercise as he had for some minutes, then proceeded to a
brisk roll-call. There should be fifteen men and two officers. Rapidly
Graham ran over the names, and each time a voice rang back in
reply--until he came to the cook.

"McKegnie?... Cook McKegnie?"

There was no answer. Wells stared around the group of dim figures and
himself called the name again. But McKegnie was not present. And as
the commander and his men realized it the numbing spell of their
desperate position settled down on them again like a shroud.

Keith shook off the mood. "Well," he muttered, "I guess the devils got
him. Poor McKegnie's seen the wheels go round for the last time....
All right: take command, Graham. I'm going to do a little
reconnoitering."

* * * * *

The round entrance hole was some fifteen feet from him, at the far end
of the cell. Keith advanced cautiously to it, the peculiar light
feeling the water gave him making his steps uncertain. The dim blue
illumination made the details of the corridor outside hazy, shadowy,
but it seemed to be empty. Peering out, Wells could sight no guarding
octopi. He edged closer and stared down to the left. Twenty feet away
the vague light tapered into darker gloom, filled with thick, wavering
shadows; but it was apparently devoid of tentacles. He wondered if
the octopi were unaware that the effects of their ray had worn off,
and peeped cautiously around the edge to the right.

Immediately a long arm whipped out, grasped him around the waist and
flung him twisting and turning back into the chamber. Graham
laboriously made his way to the commander and helped him to his feet.
"Hurt, sir?" he asked anxiously.

"No," Keith gasped. "But that devil--"

He stopped short. The first officer turned and followed his
commander's stare.

The entrance hole of the cell had filled with a monstrous shape. A
huge octopus was resting there, its unblinking eyes coldly surveying
the crew of the _NX-1_. On each of its thick tentacles was a broad
band of polished gold. It was the king, the same creature that had
inspected them from the throne-dais a few hours before. And behind him
in the corridor the men glimpsed another octopus.

Slowly the ruler of the octopi swam into the chamber. Its great eyes
centered icily on Keith Wells, standing at the head of his cowering
men; and its mighty tentacles waved slowly, gracefully, as if the
creature stood in doubt. One of them tentatively