ither paralysis or death as I choose.

"But enough of this!" Arlok broke off abruptly. "My materials are now
ready, and it is time that I finished my work. I shall put you out of
my way for a few hours until I am ready to send you through the Gate
to the laboratories of Xoran."

The green and blue fire of the tentacle's tips flamed to dazzling
brightness. The paralysis of Gordon's body swept swiftly over his
brain. Black oblivion engulfed him.

* * * * *

When Gordon again recovered consciousness he found that he was lying
on the floor of what was apparently a narrow hall, near the foot of a
stairway. His hands were lashed tightly behind him, and his feet and
legs were so firmly pinioned together that he could scarcely move.

Beside him lay Leah, also tightly bound. A short distance down the
hall was the closed door of Arlok's work-room, recognizable by the
thin line of red light gleaming beneath it.

Moonlight through a window at the rear of the hall made objects around
Gordon fairly clear. He looked at Leah and saw tears glistening on her
long lashes.

"Oh, Blair, I was afraid you'd never waken again," the girl sobbed. "I
thought that fiend had killed you!" Her voice broke hysterically.

"Steady, darling," Gordon said soothingly. "We simply can't give up
now, you know. If that monstrosity ever opens that accursed Gate of
his our entire world is doomed. There must be some way to stop him.
We've got to find that way and try it--even if it seems only one
forlorn chance in a million."

* * * * *

Gordon shook his head to clear the numbness still lingering from the
effect of Arlok's tentacle. The Xoranian seemed unable to produce a
paralysis of any great duration with his weird natural weapon.
Accordingly, he had been forced to bind his captives like two trussed
fowls while he returned to his labors.

Lying close together as they were, it was a comparatively easy matter
for them to get their bound hands within reach of each other, but
after fifteen minutes of vain work Gordon realized that any attempt at
untying the ropes was useless. Arlok's prodigious strength had drawn
the knots so tight that no human power could ever loosen them.

Then Gordon suddenly thought of the one thing in his pockets that
might help them. It was a tiny cigarette lighter, of the
spring-trigger type. It was in his vest pocket completely out of reach
of his bound hands, bu