"Fool Bugs cut the ropes," said Spike. "We floated off Pluto. Several of them must have held on the rope-ends for a while. Their weight slowed us down till the moon came over, but we hit in the jungle--an ocean, either way, between us and the Plain." "Lord!" said Rusty. "No man ever crossed this part of the planet on foot!" "Nobody ever escaped from Pluto either," said Spike. "Until ten minutes ago." He yanked Rusty to his feet. Rusty looked at the dense wall of plants about them. There was barely room for a man to pass between the twisted trunks and vines. Overhead was the same thick mass of green. Faint light seeped through. But here was a single, tangible thing--something one could grasp with the hands, fight for life--a goal at the end. There was a hope! It was better than Pluto. The others came up. "What now?" said one of the Martians in his toneless voice. "Cross jungle, cross sea," said Lothar. "Let's get going," said Spike. He turned to the seemingly impenetrable growths surrounding them. Rusty followed. His heart stopped. A great white thing fell slowly in front of them. It dangled in mid-air. It was a spider--bigger than an Earthian cow. Green, checked eyes bulging, it hung from a thick strand of translucent material. Spike sprang back as the monstrosity reached out a hairy tendril. Rusty stood hypnotized by the pale hideousness of the creature. With a quick movement it swung toward them. Rusty broke his trance. He leaped aside. A tentacle slapped across his face as he sprawled into the mire. He started up, saw the insect crouched upon the writhing form of a Martian. Shrill, animal screams cut the air as the red man struggled frantically to escape the tightening white claws. The gaping man drew close. "Get him, Lothar!" shouted Spike from the edge of the jungle. The eight-foot Uranian plodded to the thing, short legs working rapidly. With a massive hand, he caught one stalk-like feeler, and wrenched and twisted it from the globose body. Holding the wriggling Martian, the spider flung itself upon Lothar. It landed upon him with all its pulpy weight. The Martian quit screaming, lay still. His eyes protruded and Rusty saw that his face, normally light red, was slowly darkening. The ghastly pale insect lay upon the Uranian body, covering his chest and arms. It did not move. The eyes glazed. Then slowly the creature rolled over upon crumpled legs. It twitched feebly. Lothar arose, his upper body a mass of pink, gelatinous fluid. Rusty revolted at the gory figure. The Martian was dead. His fellow red man searched his pockets, shrugged and did not look at him again. Lothar returned from a pool where he had washed away the "blood." "Poke hands in soft middle," he grinned. "Pull insides out!" Spike laughed uproariously. He stepped toward the plants.