go."

* * * * *

A gasp came from Axelson's throat as he raised his head and tried to
speak, but the death-rattle was already in his throat. A slight
struggle, and the massive form upon the couch was nothing but
inanimate clay.

Madge rose from beside him, and the tears were streaming down her
face.

"He wasn't a bad man, Nat," she said. "He was--gentle with me. He
didn't understand; that was all. When I refused to be his queen, he
was overcome with bewilderment. Oh, Nat, I can never, never write this
story for the Universal News Syndicate."

Nat led her, sobbing, from the room.

Soon he succeeded in getting into teleradio communication with Earth.
He broadcast the news that the Black Caesar was dead, and that his
power for evil was at an end forever.

Then, in the few hours of daylight that remained, he set his men to
work to smash the ray outfit that had destroyed China. There was some
principle involved which he did not altogether understand, though
Brent professed to have a clue to it, but it was evident that, except
for the ray, Axelson had possessed no knowledge superior to that of
the Earth scientists.

Of the guards, a few were already recovering, principally those of
comparatively younger age. Not a Moon man, on the other hand, had
survived the epidemic. As soon as Nat had got the guards out of the
house, he reduced it to ashes by the aid of an old-fashioned box of
phosphoric matches.

As the dark satellite was again creeping over Eros, the black ship set
sail.

* * * * *

But of the return journey to the Moon, where they transferred to their
own ship, of their landing at New York, and of the triumphal reception
that was accorded them, this is no place to speak. Nat's journey with
Madge from the center of the city, in what was the old Borough of
Westchester, to his home in the suburb of Hartford, was a continual
ovation.

Crowds lined the air-route, and every few miles, so thick was the
air-traffic, he was forced to hover and address the cheering
multitudes. Hartford itself was _en fete_, and across the main road
the City Bosses had hung an old-fashioned banner, strung from house to
house on either side, bearing the legend: For World President:
NATHANIEL LEE!

Nat turned to Madge, who was seated beside him silently. "Ever hear of
'getting married?'" he asked.

"Of course I've heard of it," replied the girl indignantly. "Do you