y seizing the Hero's
splendidly muscled arm--"in God's name tell us what's happened. Why we
were arrested and--nearly made into allosaurus fodder?"

Hero Giles turned from snapping an order to a subaltern who was
peering down a great, shadowy hallway with a distinctly uneasy manner.

"Much," he said. "Scarcely had ye two departed from Heliopolis than
the priests, mad with rage over Altara's continued captivity, dared to
seize the person of His Splendor and proclaim a regency. Herakles, the
arch-priest is--"

* * * * *

From far down the gloomy, vaulted corridor came a faint sound, rather
like the distant cheering of a crowd. The hoplites, standing about,
turned their helmeted heads and stared uneasily, their brazen armor
glowing dully with each movement.

"I'll tell ye more later, but now--"--Hero Giles' voice took on a
ringing quality like the clash of steel--"there is work to be done. To
rescue ye, oh Hero Nelson, I slew the guards at the lower gate, for
this prison lies in the hands of a caitiff rogue, Hero Edmund, one who
clings to the priestly party. We had best be off lest we be trapped
and slaughtered like rats in a pit."

Very distinctly to the ears of the aviator now came the dull clash of
equipment and the tread of feet.

"Forward! We must hasten to reach the podokos waiting below," cried
Hero Giles, settling his ponderous helmet more squarely on his leonine
head.

At once the escort of fifteen-odd hoplites commenced to move down the
corridor to the left, their hands tightly gripping the butts of their
retortii pistols. At their head ran Hero Giles, and by his side Alden
and Victor Nelson, who gripped his .45 vowing never again to return to
that ghastly cell.

A long ringing cry from the rear brought home the dread realization
that the enemy had appeared. Looking back, Nelson could see the far
end of the great corridor filled with menacing figures. Then his heart
leaped like a deer in a thicket, for _from ahead_ sounded the clash of
weapons! The rescue party's retreat was cut off!

* * * * *

Hero Giles acted with the speed of a veteran accustomed to
emergencies. "Forward!" he roared, making the bare walls reverberate
and rumble with his voice. "_Halor van! Ula Storr!_"[1]

[Footnote 1: Make ready for your retortii.]

As by magic, there appeared before the retreating force a double rank
of blue-crested hoplites who debouched from a