men, and found another hiding
place nearer Polter. We could see his giant length plainly. None of the
other men were near him. He was reclining on an elbow, stretched at ease
on a cushion. And at the moment, he was fumbling with the chains that
fastened the little golden cage to his chest. The cage was double its
former size to us now. A shaft of pale light came down, reflected from
the great sail surface overhead. It struck the bars of the cage. We
could see a small figure in there.

Then we heard Polter's voice. "I will let you out, Babs. You come out,
sit on my hand and talk with me. That will be nice? We haf a little
time."

He unfastened the cage and put it on the cushion beside him. He was
still propped up on one elbow.

"I let you out, now. Be careful, Babs."

My heart was almost smothering me. "Alan! We've got to get still closer!
Try something! Get large, shall we?"

Alan whispered tensely, "I don't know! I don't know what to do."

"We can get closer," Glora whispered. "But never larger--not here. They
would discover us too soon."

We crept forward. We reached the edge of the cushion. Its top surface
was a trifle lower than our heads--a billowing, wrinkled mass of fabric.
But I saw that the folds of it were rough enough to afford a footing. I
thought that I could climb it. We stood erect. There was a deep shadow
along here, but it was brighter on the cushion top. We could see over
its edge; an undulating spread of surface with the giant length of
Polter stretched over it. The cage was near us. Polter's great fingers
fumbled with it; a door in the lattice bars flipped open.

"Careful, my Babs!" His voice was a throaty, rumbling roar above us.
"Careful! I do not want you to be hurt."

From the little doorway came the figure of Babs! The starlight glowed on
her blue dress; her black hair was tumbling over her shoulders; her face
was pale but she was unharmed.

I think that I had never loved her so much as at that moment. Nor ever
seen her so beautiful as in miniature, standing at the door of her
golden cage, bravely facing the monstrous misshapen figure of her
captor.

We heard her small voice.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Stand quiet. Now I put my hand for you."

His monstrous hand bristled with a thatch of heavy black hair. He slid
it carefully along the cushion. Babs was barely the length of one of its
finger joints. She climbed upon its palm.

"That iss right, Babs. Now I bring you--hold