bered that he had not
taken any weapons from it. After a rapid glance around to assure herself
that she was not being watched, she quickly searched the coat, bringing
to light not one, but two pistols, which she thrust into her pocket. She
saw with relief that they were regulation army automatics, with whose
use she was familiar from much target practise with Seaton.

In the room, which was a miniature of the one she had seen on the
Skylark, the girls found clothing, toilet articles, and everything
necessary for a long trip. As they were setting themselves to rights,
Dorothy electing to stay in her riding suit, they surveyed each other
frankly and each was reassured by what she saw. Dorothy saw a girl of
twenty-two, of her own stature, with a mass of heavy, wavy black hair.
Her eyes, a singularly rich and deep brown, contrasted strangely with
the beautiful ivory of her skin. She was normally a beautiful girl,
thought Dorothy, but her beauty was marred by suffering and privation.
Her naturally slender form was thin, her face was haggard and worn. The
stranger broke the silence.

* * * * *

"I'm Margaret Spencer," she began abruptly, "former secretary to His
Royal Highness, Brookings of Steel. They swindled my father out of an
invention worth millions and he died, broken-hearted. I got the job to
see if I couldn't get enough evidence to convict them, and I had quite a
lot when they caught me. I had some things that they were afraid to
lose, and I had them so well hidden that they couldn't find them, so
they kidnapped me to make me give them back. They haven't dared kill me
so far for fear the evidence will show up after my death--which it will.
However, I will be legally dead before long, and then they know the
whole thing will come out, so they have brought me out here to make me
talk or kill me. Talking won't do me any good now, though, and I don't
believe it ever would have. They would have killed me after they got the
stuff back, anyway. So you see I, at least, will never get back to the
earth alive."

"Cheer up--we'll all get back safely."

"No, we won't. You don't know that man Perkins--if that is his name. I
never heard him called any real name before. He is simply
unspeakable--vile--hideous--everything that is base. He was my jailer,
and I utterly loathe and despise him. He is mean and underhanded and
tricky--he reminds me of a slimy, poisonous snake. He will kill me: I
know it