"If you are here on an errand from the king of Baigol," said he, "we shall be glad to escort you to the capital—but not until you have surrendered the giant who stole the king’s property." "Take us to his majesty," returned the professor, "and we will explain everything in a satisfactory manner." But this the captain would not do, and he became so threatening that we retreated behind a barrier of bowlders. "Display the banner, Mr. Munn," said the professor, and I held up the royal standard so that the captain could not help but see it. His one eye gleamed insolently, and he came as near swearing as the seventh key of his word-box would allow. "Deliver up the thief," he ordered, "or I will command my men to annihilate you with their zetbais." It was certainly a critical situation. I had already had a slight experience with the overpowering properties of zet and didn’t care for further acquaintance with it. Meigs was nothing to me. He would have stripped the coat from a poor man’s back, if he could have had his way on Earth, and it afforded me secret pleasure to see him hoisted by his own petard. The trust magnate did not fail to take note of the war-like movements of the soldiers. "Can’t you do anything to save me, professor?" he pleaded. "We shall not give you up," answered Quinn firmly. "Can you think of any way, Mr. Munn, whereby we can extricate ourselves from this difficulty?" I have a quick mind, if I do say it, and a happy thought presented itself on the spur of the instant. Stooping, I picked up a stone; then, raising myself, I let the missile fly straight at the captain. His shoulder-arms still held the word-box above his head, and the stone smashed against it and carried it away. It was rather neatly done, for the captain himself was left untouched. "Bravo!" cried the professor. "You drew the fangs of the enemy by that trick, Mr. Munn. You have rendered the captain mute, and his men cannot act without orders." I had already figured this out in my mind, and it was presently proved that I had not gone far from the mark. The captain recovered the word-box and attempted to use it, but its mechanism was so disarranged that the order to attack became a confused jumble that seemed to sound a retreat. The whole company whirled and fled, their leader following and gesticulating wildly and helplessly with his arms. Meigs was saved for the present, and he should have thanked me for it—but he did not. Seating himself on a bowlder, he gazed pensively down at the red kirtle. "This is what I call the irony of fate," said he in a morose tone. "And then, on top of it all, to be called a thief!" He leaned his bare elbows on his knees and dropped his face in his hands. "How did this happen, Mr. Meigs?" asked the professor gently. "Happen!" cried Meigs, lifting his head with a jerk and glaring at Quinn. "It would never have happened but for you!" "Have you seen Gilhooly?" went on the professor, ignoring the reproach.