d the soundlessness of cats we
dropped together into the main cabin of the submarine. Even here was
no sign of life. Quickly we covered and secured the hatch.

Then the boy stepped into the pilot house, touched a button and the
boat sank amid swirling waters toward the bottom of the shaft. Even
then there was no scurrying of feet as we had expected, and while the
boy remained to direct the boat I slid from cabin to cabin in futile
search for some member of the crew. The craft was entirely deserted.
Such good fortune seemed almost unbelievable.

When I returned to the pilot house to report the good news to my
companion he handed me a paper.

"This may explain the absence of the crew," he said.

It was a radio-aerial message to the commander of the submarine:

"The slaves have risen. Come with what men you have and those that you
can gather on the way. Too late to get aid from Omean. They are
massacring all within the amphitheatre. Issus is threatened. Haste.

"ZITHAD"

"Zithad is Dator of the guards of Issus," explained the youth. "We
gave them a bad scare--one that they will not soon forget."

"Let us hope that it is but the beginning of the end of Issus," I said.

"Only our first ancestor knows," he replied.

We reached the submarine pool in Omean without incident. Here we
debated the wisdom of sinking the craft before leaving her, but finally
decided that it would add nothing to our chances for escape. There
were plenty of blacks on Omean to thwart us were we apprehended;
however many more might come from the temples and gardens of Issus
would not in any decrease our chances.

We were now in a quandary as to how to pass the guards who patrolled
the island about the pool. At last I hit upon a plan.

"What is the name or title of the officer in charge of these guards?" I
asked the boy.

"A fellow named Torith was on duty when we entered this morning," he
replied.

"Good. And what is the name of the commander of the submarine?"

"Yersted."

I found a dispatch blank in the cabin and wrote the following order:

"Dator Torith: Return these two slaves at once to Shador.

"YERSTED"

"That will be the simpler way to return," I said, smiling, as I handed
the forged order to the boy. "Come, we shall see now how well it
works."

"But our swords!" he exclaimed. "What shall we say to explain them?"

"Since we cannot explain them we shall have to leave them behind us," I
replied.