denly Nelson's nerves snapped and he shook a trembling fist at the
martial figure above.

"Go away!" he shrieked, and reeled back on the edge of collapse. "Go
away, you damn phantom! You're driving me crazy--crazy, I tell you!"

The other stiffened, then turned and, uttering a hoarse shout,
vanished, leaving the noiseless and apparently heatless pillar of fire
flaring steadily.

Recovering somewhat, Nelson set his teeth, advanced to the nearest
corpse, stooped and regarded him who lay there, with bronze helmet
fallen off.

"It's a man and not a ghost," he murmured as his finger encountered
flesh that was still warm. "Red headed too, or I'm a liar. Now what in
hell is all this?"

For all his bewilderment he began to feel better and his swaying
reason became steadier. "Bronze, bronze--nothing but bronze," the
aviator told himself as he further examined the scattered equipment.
"Evidently these fellows don't know the use of iron or steel."

* * * * *

With increased curiosity he bent over another splendidly built dead
man who lay with back broken and sightless eyes staring fixedly onto
the steam current meandering silently along the cavern's roof. From
the fallen man's belt were slung half a dozen curious weapons that
looked not unlike potato mashers, except that they were bronze headed
and had wooden handles.

"Hum," he commented, "kind of like the grenades the Boche used in the
late lamented. Wonder what the devil these are?"

Suddenly his ear detected the sound of a footstep and, on looking
swiftly up, he beheld that same yellow bearded officer who had
directed the attack. This strange being had taken off his ponderous
helmet to carry it in his left hand, while his right was held
vertically in the immemorial sign of peace. On he came with powerful
martial strides, a brilliant green cloak flapping gently behind him
and the jewels in his brazen armor glinting like so many tiny colored
eyes. The stranger was indeed handsome, Nelson noticed--and then he
received perhaps the greatest shock of the whole chimerical adventure.
The gold bearded man halted some twenty feet away, smiled and spoke in
a curiously inflected but perfectly recognizable voice.

"Welcome to the Empire of the Atlans. Prithee, Wanderer, what be thy
name?"

For a long moment Nelson was entirely too taken back to make a reply.
Desperately his already perplexed brain tried to comprehend. Here was
a handsome six-fo