and saw the door close
silently behind him. Another lever was near the second door; he pulled
carefully, steadily, upon it.

There was no movement of the door, but something had occurred as he
knew by the hissing sound that came from above his head. Its source he
could not find; its result was most startling. For, where before his
suit had bulged out roundly with the inner pressure of one atmosphere,
it now became less taut--and it hung loosely about him when the hissing
ceased.

"An air-lock," said Spud joyfully, "or I'm a rat-tailed imp myself! That
means a heavier air-pressure inside. And now I know 'tis men folks I'm
goin' to see!"

* * * * *

The lever moved easily now, and the second door swung open and closed
behind him as before. Spud tore recklessly at the fastening of his suit,
regardless of the fact that an increased pressure might still come from
some gas that would mean death to a human. But, like Chet, he found the
air fragrant and pure, and he rid himself of the encumbering suit,
strapped the pistols at his waist, rolled the suit to a bundle he could
sling over one shoulder, and moved carefully as a cat as he went forward
through a corridor that led down and still down.

As he went the empty labyrinth of halls filled him with a horrible
depression; yet there was beauty everywhere--beauty whose delicacy of
curve and color filled even the untrained mind of Spud O'Malley with a
thrill of delight.

There were halls and vast rooms without number; there were carvings that
glowed with a light of their own--figures so filled with the very spirit
of livingness that they seemed stepping out from the cold walls to greet
him; there were more celestial hosts of purest white poised apparently
in mid-flight.

There were marvelous, rioting waves of color that pulsed and throbbed
through the walls and the very air of some rooms; and there were
articles of furniture--carved tables, chairs--objects whose purpose
Spud could not guess. But, except for the occasional sound of shrill,
squeaking voices in the distance, there was no sign of the presence of
the builders, the men Spud had hoped to find.

And he knew at last that his quest was hopeless. The dust of uncounted
centuries that lay thickly upon all was evidence as convincing as it was
mute.

"There's naught but the devils!" Spud despaired. "The others--saints be
helpin' of them!--have been gone for more years than a man dares th