"

"Who are these slaves you keep mentioning?" Jim broke in. "How many
of them are there on this ship: and how many like Xantra?"

* * * * *

"Xantra is the only one of his kind," came the answer. "The slaves are
a race of inferior people found on his planet--wherever that is: I
couldn't understand, from his explanation, just where. They are
creatures much like ugly human beings with a touch of the ape, and are
entirely bald, very strong and not very intelligent. There're seven or
eight on board. Normally they are good-natured: but sometimes when
they have a hard master, like Xantra, they take to hating him; and
when they do that they can be very fierce and treacherous. That's the
main reason for Xantra's stopping at Earth: to see what kind of slaves
we humans will make. He is hoping that we will be more intelligent
than those he has--and more docile, and safer to have around."

"Well," snorted Jim belligerently, "if Mr. Xantra thinks that I'm
going to be safe to have around, he's a lot dumber than _I_ am!"

"Oh, it's good to hear you talk that way," the girl's voice went on.
"We three have got to stick together, and find some way to escape!

"I've so much to say!" she went on; "but I daren't stay long, for fear
of getting caught. What you said is where my chief hope lies: Xantra
doesn't realize how intelligent we are, and how dangerous; and we
mustn't let him know! I think he believes we are much like his present
slaves: he gets away with murder with them. You've noticed the lumps
on the back of your necks? Well, they have them, too; it's something
that's attached to the spinal cord and gives him telepathic control
over them; also the power to hurt them dreadfully--as you've
unfortunately found out. His slaves don't understand these lumps; they
don't seem to know that he would lose control if they could only in
some way get rid of the things in their necks!"

* * * * *

For the first time since the girl started talking, Clee spoke. His
voice was low and grave, and there was a tinge of suspicion in it.

"Just how does it happen," he asked, "that you know so much about
things here?"

The girl's voice broke as she gave her answer.

"I'm ashamed to tell you," she said. "Xantra--he--he admires me as a
healthy animal; one close, in species, to himself. He thinks by being
nice to me that he might be able to make me a willing companion to
share his trip