ble nearby a knot of officers was gathered. Papers
of some sort were piled high on it. Again the icy finger of dread
touched me. One of the officers moved aside, revealing the profile of
his companion. The Ferret. Then I knew I was done for!

My eyes darted here and there, seeking escape. No hope--the heavily
armed guard was all around; the platform blocked the shaft mouth. A
dash would be self-betrayal--suicide.

* * * * *

Mechanically I obeyed the sergeant's barked commands. We were in
single file. We were moving toward that ominous table where the Ferret
stood, a sardonic smile on his sharp-featured face. I could make out a
livid weal across his throat. I had left my mark on him. That was some
satisfaction.

The head of the line reached the table. They were fingerprinting the
leader! A lieutenant extracted a paper from the pile and handed it to
the Ferret. He made momentary comparison of something on the paper
with the mark the soldier had just made. Then the next man stepped up,
while the first made off across the plain.

Of course! Simple: how very simple! And yet it had caught me! The
service records of the men had their fingerprints, just as in our own
forces. And each man in the area was being checked up. Trust the
Ferret to think of that. He knew that I'd be somewhere in their ranks,
impersonating one of their men. Well, I was in for it. The last trick
in our long game was his.

My turn. No use going through the motions. I bent down a moment, then
straightened. "Oh, hello, Bolton," the Ferret said, thrusting out his
hand, the one with the twisted finger. I had resumed my own visage.
"Didn't think you could get away with it, did you?"

Chagrined as I was, I put a good face on it. The Ferret and I had run
up against each other many many times. Cheerfully, either of us would
have cut the other's throat. But--we played the game.

"Hello, Rubinoff," I responded. "You seem to have me, just now. But
try and hold me."

The Ferret threw back his head and laughed. "Oh, I think you'll find
it a little difficult to get away this time." I thought so, too, but
did not voice my thought.

The smile left Rubinoff's face. He snapped an order. A squad advanced
from the guard. Handcuffs clicked around my wrists, the mates of each
were fastened to the arms of two guardsmen. I was securely chained.
They were taking no chances.

"Take him to the special cell in the guard-house." The lieut