had come.
"Let it pass," said Lohan coldly. "Suffice it that the woman who came with you is well and unharmed, though — let us say, not as comfortable as she might be. Her eventual disposition will depend to some extent on you."
"On me!" cried Winchester, with a short, bitter laugh. "What have I to do with it?"
Prince Lohan's eyes flared again. This convict emigrant from the far past was trying his patience to the uttermost, and patience was a virtue no Mongoloid had ever had need to cultivate. Yet he must have remembered that it was wily patience and persistent guile that had placed his kind in control. Once more he swallowed his rising anger.
"You have much to do with it. There is a place for you in this world, if you choose to occupy it. In spite of your antiquated notions, you have something in common with us. You fight for what you want; you do not submit tamely, as these other rabbits do. That is quite just and proper, for all good things rightly belong to the strong.
"But heretofore you have made the error of fighting those who are stronger. If you would combine discretion with your determination and resourcefulness, you will go far."
"Meaning," said Winchester slowly, "that if I play along, I can expect a few crumbs from the table?"
"You put it crudely," said Prince Lohan haughtily, "but that is the essence of it. The rewards, however, may be larger than you think."
Winchester was silent. It was a tempting proposition. Though Lohan had not troubled to conceal the hand of steel beneath the offered glove, his words had been vague and non-committal. He had not asked him to be a traitor to his own; only to cease resisting the lords and their minions.
"I'll try," said Winchester finally. "I'll try anything once."
"Good," said Lohan. He turned abruptly and stalked away.
Winchester stooped to pick up the discarded helmet and cloak. But the ring of soldiers in the distance closed in with angry shouts.
"Drop them!" screamed an officer, running up with drawn flame-gun. He bathed the objects in dazzling fire. The fabric went up in a single puff; the metal parts spewed green fire and subsided into shapeless blobs of blue scale.
"Know, slave," said the officer loftily, "that what has touched Her Highness is never suffered to be employed in less honorable work. It is due only to the extraordinary grace and clemency of his Excellency that you escape the same treatment. Go."
Winchester surveyed him coolly from head to foot.
"Why, you pompous little monkey!" he said, and spat with pointed emphasis.
With great deliberation he picked up the small ax, which of all the equipment he had brought to the scene was the only remaining bit. Then he walked away, leaving the dumbfounded guard officer blinking.
As he passed the motorcar, he tossed the ax upon it, and went on by. He expected a roar of protest and a demand for explanations from the knot of refrigeration men gathered about, but they backed away and said nothing. When he reached his own place of operations, he observed the same phenomenon.
The convicts averted their faces and pretended not to see him, while the guards looked at him with expressions akin to awe. All were uneasy and uncertain what to do.
"Well?" growled Winchester, slightly disconcerted himself. There was something uncanny about the abrupt change of attitude.
"We did not know, O Excellency," cried the head guard, breaking down and falling to his knees. "We watched from afar, not daring to go to help unless called — "
"Bosh!" snorted Winchester. "So now you think I'm a little tin god!"
He leaped to the deck of the moss-laden flat-car, anxious to hide his inner turmoil.
"Okay, men, bear a hand. Hoist me again and send up a basket of moss. We've lost a good hour with this disturbance."
Mouths gaping, the guards stood about like dummies.
The gang rode home that night in stolid silence. Winchester took his usual place in line and went through the routine of being counted. At last the mustered convicts shuffled on, eager for the comparative liberty of the vast arena, where there was at least the illusion of privacy. Winchester shuffled along with them. No one had told him otherwise. Lohan's machinery would move in due time and in its own way.
It moved sooner than he expected.
A guard plucked him by the sleeve. Winchester stepped out of line.
"This way, you," said the guard, and pushed him along a wing passage.
They went down it until it turned into another. At that corner Winchester noticed the stonework had been nicked where a fiery blast had cut through. Below the splintery face of the stone, hardened slag hung.
Winchester recognized the spot and smiled ironically to himself. The last time he had traversed this passage, a guard had fired that bolt at him — and missed! Was it an omen?
They stopped before a bronze door. The guard flashed something held in the palm of his hand against an invisible watchman. Somewhere there was a click, and the door began to swing inward slowly.
"In there, you!" and the guard gave his prisoner a vicious shove.
CHAPTER XI
Universe in a Thimble
The man seated behind the desk might easily have been taken for an American businessman of the Twentieth Century, except that he wore a gold-edged toga of deep green. Winchester checked the headlong plunge imparted to him by his guide's farewell push, and managed to keep from sprawling across the desk.
"Sit down, won't you?" said the man pleasantly, as the great bronze door clicked shut. "Sorry about the entrance, but that was staged for the benefit of the scanners at each end of the hall. We have to efface the unfortunate impression made this afternoon."
He glanced at a jeweled chronometer.
"By now all the witnesses to the incident have been executed, so we may expect no trouble hereafter on that score."
Winchester sat down limply, almost overcome by the horror of what he had just heard. That horror was heightened immeasurably by the cool indifference with which the words were uttered. All the witnesses!
"All who enter our service," the man went on smoothly, "must serve an apprenticeship. It is necessary at times to act a part. To do that effectively, you must first know the part, and what is expected of it. Upon how well you do it will depend the importance of your succeeding assignment.
"I need not tell you that great prudence and restraint is required of everyone. The penalties for failure in that respect are — well, uh — rather drastic."
He smiled at Winchester. Winchester's nails bit into his palms, and his jaw muscles were as iron, but he managed to relax them enough to mumble, "I understand."
The man in green picked up a thick folder
