the
phanti corral. A cruel light gleamed in his eyes: he gulped down the
meat and then turned to the shapes staggering around him. He yelled:

"Hey, there--let's get out the nigger! A little entertainment,
fellows! Bring him out; but don't touch Carse: he's Ku Sui's. Douse
him with water if he's unconscious."

* * * * *

They yelled in drunken delight at his words, and half of them reeled
off towards the _Star Devil_. Judd, lips up-curved in a smile, drew
his ray-gun and set the lever over for the low-power, continuous
ray-stream. These guns, unlike our present weapons, could shoot in two
ways: they could spit about twenty high-power discharges, a fraction
of a second each in duration and easily sufficient to burn a man's
head through; or they could deliver a long-lasting low-power stream,
just strong enough to sear and crisp a human skin. For the
entertainment Judd had in mind he needed low power.

The men sent to the _Star Devil_ shoved past the guards on watch near
the port-lock and over to the prisoners. They found them lying, very
close together near the after wall.

"Gonna have some fun with the black, Judd's orders," they explained to
the guards. "Still unconscious?"

Certainly Friday looked unconscious, his eyes closed, his full lips
slightly parted, showing the powerful white teeth.

"I'll give him a shot of the ray," another brigand cut in. "That'll
bring him to. Be ready to grab him."

They got an unpleasant shock when the low-power stream flicked the
negro's leg. With a gigantic bellow that rang throughout the ship,
Friday resisted.

It was like seeing a dead man come to life, and it startled them.
Bound as he was, Friday made things unhealthy for his would-be
captors; he shunted his legs up and down and squirmed mightily, and
once his gleaming teeth snapped into an arm, bringing a howl of pain
and several minutes of cursing. The unexpected resistance, once the
surprise was over, infuriated the rum-sodden men. One of them yelled:
"Sock him; Shorty!" A ray-gun's butt was slapped down on Friday's
head; the negro rolled over, stunned. Then he was picked up without
resistance and borne out into the night, where fantastic figures
cavorted around the towering fire.

"The black devil was faking all the time!" one of the guards said
amazedly. "He wasn't unconscious. What in hell did he do that for?"

"Dunno," snarled the other, rubbing a bruised leg. "Must have
suspected