n adjoining room. Their tentacles writhing in great
excitement, they swam past and into the inner chamber to the rescue of
their nearly drowned king.

The devil-fish that held Wells almost crushed him to death in its
excitement. It was obviously undecided what to do; but finally it sped
him down the passageway and cast him back inside the cell with his
men. Then it quickly retreated.

The commander staggered to his feet and faced Graham and the others.
"A miracle!" he gasped; "I'll tell you later. But now we've got to
make our break. The king's out, and we've got to get away before they
bring him to. There's nothing to do but rush the door. It means sure
death for half of us, and probably for all--but God help us if the
king catches us!"

He paused and surveyed them keenly. "Everybody with me?" he asked. And
not one man held back his answer.

Wells smiled a little. "Good!" he said.

* * * * *

There were twelve men and two officers. There were thousands of
octopi. On the face of it, their chances seemed hopeless. Not for a
second did Keith count on getting many men to the _NX-1._ But he knew
where the submarine was, and he had to try.

Tersely he gave them final instructions.

"This corridor leads to the main entrance. That is, to the
right--understand? Then straight down the street outside, to the left,
is the square where they towed the _NX-1._ I'd say it was a hundred
yards.

"There's one guard outside. Graham, you and half the men to the right
of the door. I'll take the rest to the left. Our only chance is to try
and destroy the octopus' eyes."

His mind cast about desperately for some form of weapon. The only
detachable thing on their sea-suits was the small helmet-light, a
thing, Keith told himself, without possible offensive use. Still, the
beams would enable them to more clearly see their path and keep
together, so he ordered them in hand.

The men were grouped and alert. The moment had come.

"Remember," he said, "--its eyes. Then stick together and run like
hell. All right--good luck--and let's go!"

Awkwardly, stumbling clumsily in the retarding water, the small group
surged through the door. Immediately a black shape pounced upon them
from the clustered shadows--the guarding octopus.

Its tentacles seemed to be everywhere. In seconds five men were
clutched in its awful grip, their fists rising and falling impotently
as the hideous arms constricted and crushed