Sheila's brows congealed. "I do not know--exactly. It is told that an ancient king of the yellow race, he whose name gave a mighty empire its name, was called 'Ching-tse.' And Tauthus of Cush--ancient Cush became Egypt, you know. And the Egyptian records claim their 'light-bringer' to have been a god named 'Thoth.'..." * * * * * But not now, nor soon, nor perhaps ever could these strange wonders be decided. Nor did this seem to Ramey Winters that they should linger longer, at this time, in the cold, forsaken walls of Angkor Vat. So gently he drew the girl from before the panel. "We must go now, Sheila. There is much we must do here, but now is not the time to do it. Much may have happened since we left. War threatens Indo-China; for all we know war may have started since we left. We have the food and blankets Sugriva gave us. A long journey lies before us to Thailand. To friends and safety. We'd better get on our way." So stepped the two from Angkor's lonely halls into the green-veiled sunlight of the tropics. Gray were the walls and spires they left behind, but grim no longer, nor menacing to two who knew their story. Someday, knew Ramey Winters, someday when war's insanity had died in mankind's bosom, they would return to read more fully the carven messages of friends they knew and loved. Someday.... But not now. Now they must leave gray Angkor and seek their future beyond the flaming jungle-lands. Long was the way, and dangerous perhaps; apes chattered in branches carpeted with moss; marsh and morass, wild beast and wilder man, these were the hazards they must pass. Yet somehow they felt no fear. There was lightness in their hearts and in their steps as hand-in-hand they stepped forward to meet whatever fate might bring.