d quietly. "From then on it will depend on us
who does the punishing."

* * * * *

Blake turned to the door and ignoring Dauna, started to pound on it with
all his strength, O'Toole added his weight to Blake's and they started
to shout loudly.

"We want to sock that big goon, Harror," O'Toole howled. He turned and
winked at Dauna. "How'm I doing?" he asked.

Dauna smiled gamely.

"So well, you'll probably be shot at once," she said. "Please Blake, be
careful."

They pounded again, harder than ever. The door started to sway and
buckle under their weight. There was a heavy step outside, and a murmur
of angry voices.

"Shut up in there."

"We want to talk with your boss," Blake shouted. "Let us out or we'll
clean up on the whole gang of you."

The door swung open, and a guard came in. Two more were close behind.
Guns swung around, covering the car.

"You'll talk with Harror," the first man said. "And you'll be damned
sorry you did."

He pushed a gun into Blake's side.

"Now walk," he ordered. "And walk straight. No monkey business."

O'Toole started to follow them.

"You're staying here," the guard growled. "This monkey is going to get
the business."

O'Toole reddened with rage.

"Why you masked ape," he said. "Let me out of here or I'll push your
chin into your scalp."

That did the trick. The second guard twisted around and punched O'Toole
in the face. The Irishman reeled, caught himself and said through bloody
lips, "You'll pay for that."

The masked man pushed him from the car and O'Toole went a little
uncertainly down the steps and after Blake.

They crossed the floor of the cave toward the series of doors in the
wall. Two more guards joined the group and they paused before the first
door.

"We got some wise guys," the man who was covering Blake shouted. "Want
to give them a going over, Chief?"

There was a moment of silence. Then Grudge Harror's heavy voice said
from beyond the door.

"Bring them in."

Blake kicked the door open and strode into a small, mercury-lighted
room. There was a single chair and the desk behind which Harror was
seated. His huge arms rested across its top. His expression darkened as
he saw Blake.

"What's he been up to?"

The guard stepped close to Harror and pocketed his weapon.

"He was shouting his head off," he said. Then, in an almost apologetic
voice he added, "The Irishman insisted on coming along."

* *