e him a ship of space thundered vainly from her great exhausts
as if roaring in rage at her own futility.

CHAPTER VI

_Heart of the Moon_

In the grasp of the winged creatures' long, clawed hands Chet was
helpless. He was struggling vainly when they released their hold and he
felt himself falling into a pit that, as far as he knew, was a
bottomless abyss. He was still struggling to right himself in mid-air
when he struck.

To fall even so short a distance on Earth would have meant instant
death. Here, where gravitation's pull was but one-sixth that of Earth,
he still struck on a rocky floor with a thud that made him sick for lack
of breath.

Above him was a pale circle of light. Tipping the edge of a vast crater
mouth high above was a rim of brilliance. Earthlight! Chet was suddenly
certain that he was seeing that glow for the last time as the circle
went black, and there came to him the unmistakable clang of metal where
a door was shut.

Through the countless mingled emotions that filled him he was wondering
what manner of creatures these were into whose hands he had fallen.
Intelligent, beyond a doubt, in their own way; he could not question the
evidence of his own eyes and ears. They were able to work in metals and
to seal the mouth of this lunar tomb.

But he was still alive; he could not give up now. This adventure upon
which he had launched with such high hopes had turned out differently
than expected; but, he told himself, it was not ended yet.

And, instead of a lifeless globe, he had found this: a place peopled
with strange, half-human life. And, more marvelous still, instead of
Haldgren, whom he had come to seek, there had been a girl!

* * * * *

Chet had recovered his ability to breathe, had made sure that the oxygen
tank was intact; and now he called softly into the blackness of this
dark vault where he had seen her thrown.

"Are you alive?" he asked. "Can you hear me?"

For answer came quick rustling of moving bodies, the smooth rasping of
wings on leathery wings, hands that fumbled for him, then closed about
arms and legs and throat, while in his ears was a chattering of
high-pitched squeals. Again he was lifted in air, held there in the grip
of a score of lean, long-fingered hands. He was nerving himself to
undergo without flinching whatever new torture might be in store. Yet he
thrilled inexplicably as through the sounds of these things about him,