nobleman, am interested in the masses? Cattle--swine! I plan only for
the day when we who are worthy rule again, and this that I have told
you is my plan. You can, as you Americans so coarsely say, either take
it or leave it."

* * * * *

A tension hung in the air, as his words echoed into silence. The man
had revealed himself.

"And suppose we leave it?" asked the professor, restraining his
irritation as best he could. "What then?"

"Then I am afraid--ah--unpleasant consequences would result," was the
bland answer. "Surely you realize that I could not let you and young
Dr. Stoddard rejoin your expedition with this story to report."

They realized it quite well.

"But suppose we agree not to report it?" said Professor Prescott.

"Not to doubt your honesty of intention," replied Krassnov sharply. "I
would refuse to accept such an agreement."

"Then I see nothing else but to decline your kind proposal," said
Stoddard, before the professor could formulate further words. "What do
you propose to do--murder us?"

"Nothing so personal," said the prince, with his sardonic smile. "I
shall merely turn you over to my little subjects. They no doubt will
deal with you as your merits warrant."

Whereupon he pressed a button under that elaborate teakwood table. The
musical gong they had heard before sounded again, and the prince's two
Cossack retainers reappeared.

He addressed them briefly in Russian, adding to his guests:

"Adieu, friends! If you change your minds, you have only to speak. You
will be understood, and I shall be gratified."

And without further words, they were led from that ornate apartment.

* * * * *

Taken back to the dazzling chamber under the meteor, they were turned
over to the pigmies.

A powwow resulted, but it was brief. The two captives were bound fast
in a curious ceremonial pit near the center of the room. Then the
midget horde withdrew, leaving them alone there under that eery glow.

"Now what the devil will be the next step?" queried Stoddard, when the
last of the pigmies had gone.

Professor Prescott considered for a moment, before replying.

"I don't think there will be any next step, except our cremation," he
said at length.

"Cremation?" gasped his young friend. "What do you mean, cremation?"

Another pause, then:

"Just this. Don't you see where we are? Right under the Thunderbolt!
Well?"

"Well what?"