gun where it had fallen; saw the empty magazine; then
flung himself down beside the unconscious figure of Spud while he tore
at the fastenings of the second weapon.

"His suit!" he shouted to the girl. "Get his suit! It's there where he
fell! Bring yours and mine, too!"

He was hardly able to gage his own strength here where all weights were
one-sixth of their equivalent on Earth. He stooped and swung the chunky
body of Spud across his shoulder as easily as he would have lifted a
child. And, having done it, he was entirely at a loss as to where to go.

Across the great room was a throng of leaping, flapping things; more
were pouring in from open doors. Chet stood hesitant and bewildered,
until Anita spoke.

"Come!" she called, and darted toward a narrow entrance.

* * * * *

The clamorous shrieking from the horde of Moon-beasts marked their
swooping assault upon the two, and Chet paused to send them three shots
that checked the advance. Then, with the body of Spud held tightly, he
sprang where Anita had gone.

She was waiting, but gave Chet no chance to question her. "Come!" she
commanded again, and ran on as before. But, as Chet gained her side, she
offered between gasping breaths an explanation.

"Five years they kept us ... like animals in a cage ... but there was a
place ... a sacred place ... they let us go there.... And they let us
make signal lights from outside ... they called it magic.

"And now Frithjof has escaped ... he will go to the sacred room ... only
there would he be safe...."

They had turned and twisted through narrow passages. Anita, it seemed,
was plotting a course through less frequented thoroughfares of this
strange city. But they came at last to a vast auditorium into which they
peered from a half-opened door.

The room was of preposterous size, and Chet marveled at the minds that
had conceived and wrought so tremendous an undertaking. And he saw
plainly in his own mind the throngs of serene-faced beings who must have
folded their white wings softly about them to gather there for worship.
But more plainly still he saw the jostling, squealing crowd that was
there that instant before his eyes.

Hundreds of them--thousands, it might be--and the sound of their shrill
voices made hideous echoes from the high-flung ceiling of the great
hall. The dry rustling of their leather wings was an unceasing rush of
sound.

* * * * *