inct feeling that there was something wrong with this
idyll. It seemed to him that he was being spied upon. He sneaked a
furtive glance behind him. DeCastros was still sitting where he had
been, with his back to him.

Mr. Wordsley slowly lifted his gaze to the plateau of shimmering glass
that was before him. At its rim, a hundred feet above him, a silent
figure stood gazing down upon him.

* * * * *

A man even six feet tall might easily have frightened Mr. Wordsley into
a nervous breakdown by staring at him with that gaunt, hollow-eyed
stare, but this creature, though manlike, was fully fifty feet tall,
incredibly elongated, and stark naked. Its hair was long and matted; its
cheeks sunken, its lips pulled back in an expression which might have
been anything from a smile to a cannibalistic snarl.

Mr. Wordsley cried out.

Captain DeCastros heard and came running across the intervening distance
with swiftness incredible in one of his bulk at this gravity. His
blizzer was out. It was one of the very latest models of blizzers. Very
destructive. Mr. Wordsley had always been afraid to touch it.

He fired, and part of the plateau beneath the titan's feet fell away in
a sparkling shower. The creature vanished.

DeCastros was red-faced and wheezing. "That was Malmsworth," he said.
"Now how the devil do you suppose he managed to stick it out all these
years!"

"If that was Malmsworth," Mr. Wordsley said, "he must be a very tall
man."

"That was merely dimensional mirage. Come along. We'll have to hurry if
we catch him."

"Why do we want to catch him?" Mr. Wordsley said.

Captain DeCastros made a sound of sober surprise. Even of pious wonder.
"Malmsworth is my only brother," he said.

Mr. Wordsley wanted to say, "Yes, but you shot at him." He did not,
because there was no time. He had to hurry to catch up with DeCastros,
who was even now scrambling up the steep slope.

From the rim they could see Malmsworth out there on the flat. He was
making good time, but Captain DeCastros proceeded to demonstrate that he
was no mean hiker, himself. Mr. Wordsley's side began to hurt, and his
breath came with difficulty. He might have died, if he had not feared
to incur DeCastros' anger.

At times the naked man was a broad, flat monster upon that shimmering
tableland. Again he seemed almost invisible; then gigantic and tenuous.

Presently he disappeared altogether.

"Oho!" DeCastros said, "If