s
companions were close to his left side. Zitlan was directly in front of
him, and there were seven of his minions clustered behind him.

Again Dirk glanced at the great dial of the clock, and he saw that it
was seven minutes of four.

The moment had come to act if action was to prove of any avail.

"I will--"

But the words of Zitlan were interrupted by Dirk, who suddenly made a
mighty sweep with his left arm and knocked the deadly tubes from the
hands of Anteucan and Huazibar. Startled by the assault, they went
reeling backward. At almost the same instant Dirk leaped forward and,
seizing Zitlan, hurled him among those Lodorians who had been massed
behind him. Then he threw himself violently into the tangled mass, his
fists driving in and out with deadly strength!

* * * * *

Out of the corner of one eye he saw Inga pass the melee and dart swiftly
to the corner of the terrace. Instead of passing around to the landing
stage, however, she lingered there and watched the combat.

Dirk, as he fought, became conscious that Steinholt and Fragoni were at
his side, battling with him against his enemies. He saw, too, that
Stanton had retired to the far end of the terrace and that he was
watching the struggle with frightened eyes.

"We must reach the plane and get away," gasped Dirk. "In another three
minutes--"

He felled a Lodorian who, having lost his tube, was about to grapple
with him. He saw Steinholt send another one of their opponents reeling
backward.

"Fragoni!" he exclaimed. "The plane! Get in with Inga! We will come!"

Even as he spoke his fists were flailing back and forth between each one
of his staccato commands.

He saw beneath him a hand reaching toward a tube, and he kicked the
instrument of death. It hurtled over in the direction of Stanton and
landed close to his feet. Stanton might have picked it up and been in
possession of the means of aiding his old friends or his new allies. But
he shrunk away, panic-stricken, from the thing that lay so close to his
reach.

A Lodorian leaped upon Dirk's back in an effort to bring him to the
ground, but he stooped swiftly forward and his assailant was catapulted
over his head into those who were in front of him.

* * * * *

He caught a flash of the contorted face of Zitlan flying through the
air, and saw him land with a crash on the terrace, and lie there
writhing in pain.

"Steinholt, Laza