will kill us both; throw us to the
fires!"

"Wait!" almost shouted Chet to make himself heard above the din of
shrieking voices. "I've got to know! Who are you? Who is Frithjof? How
did you get here? Where are you from? Tell me quickly! It may give me
something to go on; it may mean a chance for delay."

And if Chet had not been out of breath from the shouted questions, he
would surely have been left breathless by their amazing answer.

"I thought you knew," said the girl as the din of shrillness subsided.
There seemed to Chet a note of hurt in her voice. "I thought you knew,
that you had come here knowing. I am Anita, and Frithjof is my
brother--Frithjof Haldgren! I stowed away on his ship; he did not know.
I was only thirteen then.... And now, is Frithjof forgotten back in that
world that we left?"

Again that note of disappointment; the pilot sensed it even through the
tenseness of the moment when both Earth-folk knew that death stood close
at their side. He answered quickly:

"I came for your brother. I saw your signals. I came to find Haldgren
and to save him. And I have failed. But if death, as you say, is all we
can expect, let me say this: 'I have failed, but I have found you; and
whatever comes I am content.'"

* * * * *

The blue eyes were wide; they were looking at him with a searching
glance that changed to a childish candor while a flush stole over the
pale face. She reached out one hand toward his. "We could have been
happy," she said simply; "and now--now we must face the
fires--together."

"I don't know just what you mean by that," spoke Chet softly, "but,
whatever it is, there is a little matter of a fight first."

He released her hand and moved swiftly between her and the nearer of the
throng; and his blood pulsed strongly through him as he faced a battery
of hostile red eyes and knew that he was preparing for his last fight.

A hand clutched at his arm. "Not now!" begged Anita Haldgren's voice.
"Wait! They will not all come. I too, can fight; but we cannot face so
many!"

The rat-tails of the nearest beasts were whipping to and fro; the eyes
in the chalky faces were like living coals where the ashes have been
freshly blown. Chet stepped back beside the girl, and he made no protest
as the black claws seized him and the sharp talons dug into his flesh.
But he whispered to the one who was hurried along beside him: "You are
right; I'll be good as long as we sta