"Go to it," was the answer. "I can hold them"--a stifled groan--"for
a--minute!" Professor Sykes had found his substitute for five inches
of steel, and the living flesh yielded but slowly to the pressure of
the bolts.

* * * * *

McGuire was working frantically at the wire, then held himself in
check while he carefully unwound it from its fastening. There was a
splice, and he worked with bleeding fingers to unfasten the tight
coils. And then the end was free and in his hands. He dropped to the
balcony to pull in the slack, and he wrapped the end about beneath his
arms and twisted it tight, then leaped out into space. No thought of
himself nor of Sykes in this one wild moment, only of Althora in the
grip of those beastly hands.

He was struggling to turn himself in the air as the colored masses of
people seemed sweeping toward him, and he shot as a living pendulum,
feet first, into the waiting heads.

He was on his feet in an instant and tearing at the twisted wire that
held him. About him was clamor and confusion, but beyond the nearer
figures he saw the one who waited, and beside her a thing in scarlet
that shrieked orders to his men.

He flung off one who leaped toward him, and ducked another to dash
through and reach his man. And he neither saw nor felt the creature's
ripping talons as he drove a succession of rights and lefts to the
blood-red face.

The scarlet one went backward under the fusillade of blows; he was
down, a huddle of color upon the pavement, and a horde of paralyzed
soldiers had recovered from their stupefaction and were rushing upon
the flyer. He turned to meet them, but their rush ended as quickly as
it began: only a step or two they came, then stopped, to add their
wild voices to the confusion of ear-splitting shrieks that rose from
all sides.

* * * * *

McGuire crouched rigid, tense and waiting, nor did he sense for an
instant that the assault was checked and that the faces of all about
him were turned to the sky. It was the voice of Althora that aroused
him:

"Tommy! Tommy!" she was calling, and now she was at his side, her
arms about him. "What is it, Tommy? Look! Look!" And she too was
gazing aloft. And then, above all other sounds McGuire heard the
roar--

The clouds were golden above with the brilliance of midday--and
against them, hard and sharp of outline, was a shining shape. A cloud
of vapor streamed behind