a General Phil Sheridan and get here."

Hero John's blue eyes widened uncomprehendingly. "What?" he demanded.
"What dost thou propose?"

* * * * *

Nelson's hand crept to his head, for the unaccustomed weight and heat
of the helmet made it itch. "You say these bright boys from over the
border want to chow six more girls? Am I right?"

"Yea, oh Friend Nelson, they demand the victims to-morrow morn, else
they advance."

"All right." Nelson was thinking fast now, a dreadful vision of
Richard Alden stretched for sacrifice on the brass altar of Beelzebub
ever floating before his aching eyes. "Tell those Semites that they
can have those six girls _if_ they can take them away from me."

A puzzled frown creased the younger Hero's brow and he tugged
thoughtfully at his scant yellow beard. "Prithee pardon me, but I do
not comprehend."

"All right, get this now! Tell the Jarmuthians that they can send six
of their biggest and best scrappers, one for each girl. If they can
take any one of those girls away from me, they take them all--taking
me as well--and we'll all get the works in Jezreel together. But, on
the other hand, if I kill their six champions, then Alden is returned
unharmed, the six girls come home and the six other girls come back
too--and there'll be no more hostages. I don't think they'll agree to
or even consider surrendering Your Princess, Altara. I'm sorry I can't
accomplish that, too. But if I can stop this annual tribute, it won't
be so bad, will it?"

* * * * *

Rounder and rounder grew the Atlantean's eyes, and he gaped like a
school boy in a side show.

"What sayest thou? Thou alone to overcome six of their best warriors?
Nay, but this is folly! Moonshine! What knowest thou of their
weapons?"

"Nothing," admitted Nelson, "but I do know Brother Winchester here."
He patted the smooth stock. "He's mighty persuasive, properly
handled."

"But they are armored! They have the fungus bombs, the light retortii
and the javelin!"

"Righto!" agreed Nelson a trifle carelessly, "but you don't know what
this old boy can do when he's put to it. Well?"

"By Saturn!" An uncertain ring crept into the Atlantean Prince's
voice. "A moment, while I address His Splendor."

"I'm a fool, a damn fool!" thought Nelson. "Still, it's Alden's only
chance--unless the Jarmuthians've got some trick I'm not on to, I
ought to stand a fighting chance." Meanwhile E