their native habitat, waving their fronds as though in cadence with some great silent symphony of the universe. See that tapestry over yonder, with the beast woven into it?"

Here Janice Darell pointed up toward the flattened glass dome that roofed the room. "There is old Mother Earth looking down at us, and the sun is peeping around her rim," she said. "See how the light of Sol sifts through the terrestrial atmosphere. There is a streak of red, of gold, of opal, and beyond are the stars and the blackness of space."

"The contrast of the forces of darkness with those of light," Shelby put in softly.

Hekki was smiling absently. "There are many contrasts," he mused. "The contrast of life and death, of power and weakness, of nightmare and reality."

Words popped into Austin Shelby's head, and, carelessly, he uttered them without thinking: "You often walk with your nightmares, don't you, Hekalu?"

A hard light came into the Martian's eyes as he stared straight at the Earthman. "Perhaps," he said, "and you, Mr. Shelby, often walk in your sleep!" But apparently the incident was immediately forgotten.

Austin wondered how much the girl knew about the luxurious Hekalu. A quick glance of intelligence passed between them.

"I'll have to pack now," Janice said. "Won't you boys walk along with me a little ways?" She took Austin's arm as they arose. Hekki fell in beside them. At the entrance to the corridor which led to the girl's stateroom they paused.

"My business will occupy me tonight and tomorrow," said Hekalu, "so I shall bid you goodbye until, let us say, the following evening, Jan, but if you like I shall have Alka take you home."

"Mr. Shelby has asked permission to perform that little service, you industrious old business man," she replied mischievously. And again that dark shadow flickered momentarily on the Martian's features.

"But you will let me see you the day after tomorrow?" he asked. "I have found a little paradise out at Oak Park patterned after the fairy palaces of my own planet, and besides, I have a new jewel to show you."

"Fie on your jewels, Hekki," she smiled, adopting the stiff trite speech the Martians often fell into. "But anyway, perhaps I shall favor you with my incomparable company. The time you mention is still a ways away. Sidi yadi,[1] my friend. Remember I shall be expecting a view-phone call from you soon." Then turning to Shelby: "I'll meet you in the lounge right after the boat lands. Don't fail me!"

"You needn't worry about that, Jan," he assured her.

In a moment she was hurrying up the corridor in the pink glow of the lights. As Austin gazed after her, he could not help but think how wonderful was this fluffy little wisp of blonde beauty. Was she for him? Over her he felt there lurked a dark shadow, but this only strengthened the spell she had cast over him, for it gave to him the pleasure which virile males experience when they know that their loved one requires protection.

Hekki cleared his throat to attract the attention of his companion. When Shelby turned toward him he was fumbling in one of the voluminous sleeve pockets of his blouse. Presently he drew forth a very thin rectangle of a substance resembling ivory, and handed it to the Earthman. Shelby glanced at it. It was one of the name cards commonly used by Martian men. It bore the legend in the interplanetary symbols:

Hekalu Selba, Akar
414 Teldasa
Taboor, P. 4.

Beneath in small letters appeared Hekki's Chicago address.

"I shall want to see you again soon, my friend," said the Martian cordially. "There are many things at my establishment which I would like to show you—much that we can talk about."

Austin Shelby accepted the card and handed Hekki his own. Here was an opportunity to get some first hand information on the mysterious man of Mars and his more mysterious, perhaps sinister doings. The idea that he might be placing himself in a dangerous position, Shelby gave scarcely a moment's thought, for he had in him the spirit of the adventurer.

"Thank you, Akar Hekalu. I shall get in touch with you. And in the meanwhile you can reach me at my address through the view-phone at almost any time for I shall be working on a new mechanism there. Sidi yadi."

"Sidi yadi, my friend."

The two men parted.

Fifteen minutes later a rustling whisper was audible throughout the Ekova, above the steady purr of the forward-pointing decelerating rockets. It became a deep-toned soughing which rapidly increased in volume to a loud roar, and then to a screeching hiss. The ship swayed and rocked a little. It was tearing its way into the terrestrial atmosphere.

In the conning tower forward, the pilot and his assistant were working calmly and cooly over the bewildering array of controlling mechanisms. Getting those thousands of tons of metal safely lowered into a space ship's cradle on the landing stage, was a difficult task, but the experience and efficiency of the two men was quite competent to cope with it.

Far below was a vast sea of winking lights—Chicago, its colossal skyscrapers looming up severe and white and beautiful in the glow.

The pilot's nimble fingers turned a small horizontal wheel at his side. The liner dipped and dropped slowly earthward toward an area of white light. A mass of cloud poured over the huge hull for an instant and then passed by. The outer shell of the great silvery whale which had been chilled to a degree from absolute zero, by the cold of space had been warmed but slightly by the rapid passage through the atmosphere and now gleamed with jewel-like hoar frost.

Down, down it floated until it was only three hundred feet above the landing stage. A red signal light gleamed suddenly on a panel within the control room, and the wizard of that eerie chamber shifted a tiny lever. The space ship halted and hung motionless supported by its repulsion plates. On the ground in the glare of floodlights white-clad men hurried about. Four mighty arms of metal groped upward from a mass of heavy framework. They clutched the craft with a grating noise, and then, with the slow deliberation of a sleepy giant, they drew it gently down into its cradle.

Within the Ekova all was abustle. Its doors, built solidly like the breeches of big cannons, swung open, permitting the cool night air to enter the ship, which for seven days had been a world sufficient unto itself. Gangplanks were let down, and the passengers, jesting gaily with one another began their leisurely descent to the ground. Customs officials worked feverishly. A webby derrick arm pointing out from an opening in the side of the liner, was unloading mail and costly material and equipment sent to Earth from the Red Planet.

The routine processes of debarkation over, Shelby and Janice Darell entered the covered causeway which led to the great terminal building of the Space Travel Company.

The two had caught but a fleeting glimpse of Hekki. He was talking earnestly to a white-clad official, and had not seen them; nor had they tried to attract his attention. Conspicuous among the Martian's numerous possessions was a large basket of metal wickerwork, such as were commonly used to convey dogs and similiar pets from place to place. The sight of that basket had aroused again in Shelby's mind that peculiar sense of the presence of something sinister. Was the monster he had seen in Hekalu Selba's company hidden within that case of woven wire?

Within the causeway was a moving walk which carried Shelby and his companion to the depot. Here the intermittent whirring of pneumatic tube-cars operating in a vast network throughout the city was audible. The young Earthian pair, and the two attendants bearing their light luggage entered an elevator, which