"I prefer to remain fully dressed," Turpan said. "Lead on."

Stephen now found that, though the pain was excruciating, his bare feet had rendered him as sure-footed as a goat, while Turpan struggled to keep his footing. Between them the girl uncomplainingly picked her way upward.

And then they came to a place, as Stephen had hoped, where it was necessary to scale a sheer scarp of six or seven feet in order to gain a shelf near the summit. He had to kneel in order to help the girl up. Turpan, not tall enough to pull himself up with his arms, cursed as his boots slipped.

"Extend the barrel of your rifle to me," Stephen said, "and I will pull you up until you are able to reach that overhanging bush. It will support your weight."

Turpan nodded curtly. He was not happy about this. He was never happy when playing a minor role, but he appreciated the urgency of the moment.

Stephen pulled and the Bedchamber Assassin strained upward. Then he grasped at the bush, and at the same moment Stephen gave a sharp, Herculean tug.

Turpan snatched for the bush with both hands. "Got it," he said, and swung himself upon the ledge.

"Yes," agreed Stephen, "but I have the rifle."

Turpan, fettered like a common criminal, lay upon his couch in the tent where he had sat not long ago, a conqueror. The powerful floodlight that shone in his face did nothing to sooth his raw temper. Someone entered the tent and he strained in his bonds to see who it was. Stephen came and stood over him.

Turpan licked his dry lips. "What time is it?" he asked.

"It is almost midnight. They have destroyed your rifle, but it has been decided that, in view of your predatory nature, it would be dangerous to release you again upon this colony. Are you prepared to meet your fate?"

Turpan sneered. "Destroy me, fool—eunuch! It will not change your lot here. You will remain an untouchable—an odd man out. May your books comfort your cold bed for the rest of your life. I prefer death."

Stephen removed the hypodermic needle from the kit which they had furnished him and filled it. He bared Turpan's arm. The muscles of that arm were tense, like cords of steel. Turpan was lying. He was frightened of death.

Stephen smiled a little. He looked a good deal younger when 

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