athering composed of
Hero Giles, Hero John and two or three other veterans, traced the
barest outline of his plan.

"You understand? I'm to be taken to the border as a prisoner; then, in
plain sight of the enemy lines, the guards must maltreat me and turn
me loose."

The aviator searched one after another of the brutal, war-like faces,
while Hero Giles translated for the benefit of two Atlantean generals
who did not speak the royal language.

"Are you positive," Alden demanded of Hero John, "that this revolution
in Atlans will die out if Altara is returned?"

"Yes! A thousand times yes!" The prince's fine eyes gleamed with
savage enthusiasm. "With the Sacred Virgin restored to Atlans, new
courage will come into the phalanxes! The priests will cease their
outcries against them. Then, with the help of the blue maxima vapor,
we will rend the dog-begotten followers of Jereboam limb from limb!"

"All right." Nelson's wiry khaki-clad body bent far over the table.
"Remember, Hero Giles, that part of the fighting's up to you. When I'm
gone, you'll do exactly what Alden tells you. Now, one thing more:
what part of the border is still unquestionably loyal?"

Hero Giles frowned and shrugged his armor-clad shoulders a little
helplessly beneath the splendid cloak of imperial green. "The gods
alone know; but at the third division of this morning, Mayda and
Thebes still vowed their loyalty. 'Tis there are quartered the
phalanxes of the Imperial guards. They alone can I trust to the
death."

"All right." Bending over a huge parchment map of the valley, Nelson
nodded, and his keen black eyes became very serious. "I want you to
concentrate every man you can muster in each of those cities.
Meanwhile tell the populace,"--he drew a deep breath--"that Altara
will certainly be returned to them."

"Art thou sure?" broke in the scarred veteran in the dented breast
plate; then, his brow dark with doubt, he engaged Hero Giles and the
rest in a heated, low-voiced colloquy.

* * * * *

Alden stepped near, an anxious frown on his unshaven features. "Think
this idea of yours is sure-fire?"

"No," Nelson's lean head shook. "I'm far from sure. It's a wild gamble
at best, but we can't be any worse off than we are now. If the priests
win out, we're sunk and no mistake about it; but there's a fighting
chance my idea could be brought off."

"Now look here," objected the younger pilot tensely. "What's this rot