"I know just how you feel," assented Lake O'Brien. "I hate to admit it myself. It makes me feel like a candidate for the padded-cell brigade. But you've got eyes, Barrett. There's the proof before you. How else can you explain it?" "I can't," snorted Barrett stubbornly, "and I ain't going to try to. This is a dream, that's what. A dream or a hally-soosynation. For all I know, maybe I got conked in the fight, and I'm delirial. Yeah--that's what it is! I'm off my button and seeing things. I don't believe none of this. You hear me--?" He swung suddenly to the peephole, raised his voice in a roar. "I don't believe in you! Get it? You guys are spooks, dreams, nightmares! Go 'way! And--Oh, my golly! _Ramey_!" * * * * * HIS words ended in an agonized howl. For his shout had brought an unexpected result. Real or unreal, the "hallucinations" thronging the hall below had an auditory sense. At Red's bellow, all murmurs, all motion, suddenly stopped--and every eye turned upward toward the source of those cries. Now something like a shudder coursed through the assemblage. Voices rose shrilly, a dozen figures raced bleating from the room ... and to the last man, those left behind fell to their knees in attitudes of abject worship! Ramey turned in confusion to the girl beside him. "_Now_ what?" he demanded helplessly. "I think I know!" said Sheila. "This chamber we're in is the interior of one of their idols. These peepholes must be the eyes in the image. Or perhaps they are just concealed in the carving. Look underneath this opening. See that funnel-shaped pipe? That's a speaking-tube, magnifying the voice. No wonder they're excited. When Red shouted, it must have seemed their god was bellowing orders to them." "That's it!" agreed Lake. "That was a fairly common trick of ancient priesthoods. Hollow gods from which they could spy on their followers, deliver oracular utterances. Hand me that torch, Syd. I'm going down again and look for a doorway out of this image. There must be one." He ducked below. As he did so, there came a second concerted moan from the throng. This time Ramey guessed the reason. The flickering of the torch across the viewholes must have seemed to the watchers like the glint of life winking in their idol's eyes. Then there rose a commotion from the far end of the hall, the babble of excited voices, and Ramey understood where had gone those who had fled the temple. To fetch someone in authority. For now there sounded the dry scrape of marching feet, the clank of metal upon metal, and into the altar room tramped a company of-- "Holy potatoes!" exclaimed Red awefully. "_Giants!_"