Within the globes, the music rose to a furious whine
while one of the things shot forth long tentacles from the holes in its
side. Lightning-swift they shot forth, wrapped themselves about the
body of the spacehound, constricting. Digger writhed vainly, his claws
powerless to tear at the whip-like tentacles. Nat severed the tentacles
at their base with the heat-beam.

He turned, strode toward the door watching the spheres apprehensively
out of the corner of his eye, ready to jump aside should they roll
toward him suddenly. But they followed at respectful distances, singing
softly.

Before he reached the door, he found himself walking in rhythm to the
music, his head swaying. It came slowly, insidiously; before he was
aware, his body no longer obeyed his will. Muscles refused to move
other than in coordination with the music. His arm relaxed, the
heat-rod sliding from his grasp.

* * * * *

But Digger! The spacehound sent out a barrage of vibrations that fairly
rocked his brain out of his skull. Simultaneously, the beast attacked
the nearest globes, tearing fiercely at them. Rapidly the others rolled
away, but two lay torn and motionless, the music within them stilled.

Nat reached down, retrieved the heat-rod. "I think we'd better look for
a 'squeaker'. Next time they might get you, Digger."

They returned to the room of the spaceships, seeking one of the small,
portable radio-amplifiers used for searching out radium. It was known
as a "squeaker" because of the constant din it made while in use; the
noise would cease only when radium was within a hundred feet of the
mechanism. He found one after searching a few of the smaller ships.

With the portable radio strapped to his back, power switched on, he
started again down the main tunnel. The globes set up their seductive
rhythms as before, but he could not hear them above the discord of his
squeaker. Failing to lure him as before, they sought to force him in
the direction they desired him to go by darting at him suddenly,
lashing him with their tentacles. But it was a simple thing to elude
them. Still remained the question: why could they want to lure him into
that stinking pool of acid?

He flashed a beam of heat at the nearest of the annoying globes. Under
the released energy it glowed, yet did not melt. But the tentacles
sheared off and the blue lights faded. The flow of music changed to
shrill whines as of pain and its