k!" With his foot he pressed another lever which, while it did not
shut off any of the light, seemed to deflect the ray. "Fools!" he said
again scornfully. "Go down!"

* * * * *

Then it was I saw where he was sending us! Thirty feet below the
platform there swung a small cabin, attached by cables and reached by
a swinging steel ladder. As I looked a door in the roof slid back.
"Climb down!" ordered Fraser again. There was nothing to do but obey.
Accustomed as I was to flying, inured as I had become to great
heights, my head reeled and my hands grew icy as I swung myself
through that trap door and felt for a footing on the swinging ladder.
Suppose Fraser turned the ray back on us as we climbed down? Suppose
he cut the ladder? But instantly my good sense told me he would do
neither. If he had meant to kill us he could have done it easier than
this. No, somewhere in his mad head, he had a reason for sending us
down to this swinging cabin.

Five minutes later Foulet and I stared at each other in the cramped
confines of our prison. The tiny door in the roof, through which we
had dropped, was closed. The steel ladder had been pulled up. We were
alone. Alone? Were there no eyes that watched us still, or ears that
listened to what we might say? Foulet evidently shared my sense of
espionage, for, without even a glance at me, he lay down on the hard
floor of our bare little cabin and, to all intents and purposes, fell
asleep.

For a few minutes I stood staring at him, then followed his example.
As I relaxed I realized I was tremendously weary. The cumulative
exhaustion of the past thirty-six hours seemed to crowd upon me with a
smothering sense of physical oppression. I looked at my watch and
wound it. Five o'clock. Through the narrow slits near the roof of our
swinging cell I could see the changing light of dawn, melting in with
the rosy glow from the magnetic rays. My eyelids drooped heavily....

When I awoke Foulet was standing near me, his arms folded across his
chest, scowling thoughtfully. He nodded as he saw my open eyes, but
when I started to speak he shook his head sharply. With his gesture
there flooded back to me the feeling that we were watched--even
through the walls of our aerial prison and the floor of the platform
above us.

* * * * *

I sat up and, clasping my knees with my hands, leaned against the
wall. There must be a way out of this for u