side of the
room, and an intuition told the Hawk that what lay behind the screen was
in some way connected with their fate.

He waited stolidly for what he knew was coming.

"Now," Dr. Ku murmured. He smiled at his two prisoners and pressed one
of the switchboard's array of buttons. A door opposite them swung open.

"Believe me, this is a pleasure," he said.

Flanked by two impressive slant-eyed guards, a frail figure in a rubber
apron stood revealed.

Master Scientist Eliot Leithgow blinked as he looked about the
laboratory. Helpless, pitifully alone he looked, with his small,
slightly stooped body, his tragedy-aged, deeply-lined face. The blue
veins showed under the transparent skin of his forehead; his light-blue
eyes, set deep under snow-white eyebrows, darted from side to side,
dazed by the light and perhaps still confused by the events which had
snatched him so suddenly from his accustomed round and struck him with
such numbing force. His years and frailty were obviously fitted rather
to some seat of science in a university on Earth than the raw conditions
of the frontiers of space.

Hawk Carse found words, but could not control his voice.

"This is the first time I've ever been sorry to see you, M. S.," he said
simply.

CHAPTER VIII

_Dr. Ku Shows His Claws_

The scientist brushed back his thinning white hair with a trembling
hand. He knew that voice. He walked over and put his hands on his
friend's shoulders.

"Carse!" he exclaimed. "Thank God, you're alive!"

"And you," said the Hawk.

Ku Sui interrupted.

"I am most glad, honored Master Scientist," he said in the flowery
Oriental fashion that he affected in his irony, "to welcome you here.
For me it is a memorable occasion. Your presence graces my home, and,
however unworthily, distinguishes me, rewarding as it does aspirations
which I have long held. I am humbly confident that great achievements
will result from your visit----"

Quickly Eliot Leithgow turned and looked squarely at him. There was no
bending of spirit in the frail old man. "Yes," he said, "my visit. Your
sickening verbal genuflections beautifully evade the details--the house
of my friend raided at night; he, himself, unarmed, shot down in cold
blood; his house gutted! You are admirably consistent, Dr. Ku. A
brilliant stroke, typical of your best!"

Five faint lines appeared across the Eurasian's high, narrow brow.
"What?" he exclaimed. "Is this true? My servitors m