Led into the shack--which was furnished inside like an Oriental hunting-lodge--they were confronted at once by Prince Krassnov. Though his aristocratic features were immobile, it was obvious that he was in no amiable frame of mind. "So, my friends!" he exclaimed. "I leave you in India, and meet you again in America, all within a matter of hours. It is but an example of our modern progress, is it not?" They made no reply. "Ha! You are not sociable, after enjoying my hospitality, my transportation? Then suppose we--as you Americans so quaintly say--call a spade a spade! I gave you your chance. You declined it. And what is the result? My beautiful Diamond Thunderbolt, my immeasurable treasure, is buried forever." "Through no fault of ours!" put in Stoddard. "But buried nevertheless, and my adopted kingdom in revolt. Yet do not think I mourn too much, my friends. Though the game is what you call up, my plans shall go on. Here and elsewhere in the world, where we have sub-headquarters, are billions of dollars' worth of diamonds--supplies for years ahead. We shall not suffer. But you--Professor Prescott and Doctor Stoddard--I have a very interesting fate in store for you. How would you care to make a little scientific expedition to Mars, say?" "Mars?" gasped the professor. "Yes, or Venus, or even Jupiter, not to mention the moon! Or how about the sun? That would be an interesting sphere for exploration." "We don't know what you're talking about," said Stoddard growing nettled. "Why mince matters? Call a spade a spade, if you're going to! What do you propose to do with us, now that you have us in your power?" The prince paused, drew forth a long Russian cigarette from an exquisite platinum case. "I propose," he smiled, when he had lit it, "to turn over my rocket to you, my fellow scientists, since I shall have no further use for it and it might be embarrassing to be found with it in my possession." And the way he proposed to turn it over to them, as they had already suspected, was to lock them in it and fire it off into space. * * * * * Within the hour, the man's diabolical plan had been put into operation. Led to the rocket, the luckless pair were locked within a small metal room somewhere within its recesses. There sounded again the peculiar rasping that told them its doors were being sealed. And then came the roar of that mighty exhaust beating down. There followed the lifting, rushing sensation they had experienced before, and again they were flung violently to the flooring by the force of the upward impulse. When the pressure slacked, they staggered to their feet and groped around the dark, stuffy little room. "Well, this is the end, I guess," sighed Professor Prescott. "I had never thought," with a grim attempt at humor, "that I would meet quite such a scientific fate as this!"