The officer had stopped, and was peering into the niche opposite that of the madman. A skeleton, on which there hung a few unclean rags that had once been clothing, half leaned against the wall, the white skull nesting in the metal collar which hung at the end of the short, stout chain fastened to the wall. “This one will do,” he said, and entering, kicked the moulding bones into a corner with one foot while he shook the chain to dislodge the skull from the collar. With a key taken from his belt pouch, the officer unlocked the heavy collar and sprung it open. Then, while the two warriors held the prisoner in position, he snapped it on his neck, locked it, and replaced the key in his belt pouch. “I leave you in distinguished company, O wise fool of Du Gong,” said the officer. “Dead men who have been doughty warriors and mighty Khans, and a madman who was once the mightiest and wisest of all khans. Farewell.” Ted, who was now chained so he could neither stand erect nor lie down, squatted on his haunches among the bones of his filthy den, and watched the light from the head lamp of the departing officer grow more dim, until it finally disappeared and he was left in complete blackness. Then he reached back to open his suit of insulating armor, which fastened in the back with an arrangement somewhat resembling a terrestrial zipper. With this armor off it would be an easy matter for him to get rid of his collar and chain, and he would have a fighting chance for his life, as his two pistol degravitors were underneath the armor and over the court suit he had been wearing when he had suddenly decided to attack the green ray projector in his flier. To his consternation, however, the fastening would not budge. Like its terrestrial cousin the zipper, it worked beautifully when in good order, but when jammed it proved ten times as stubborn. Evidently it had been bent out of shape when his ship crashed with him in the crater. He worked futilely at it for more than two hours, then gave up the attempt as hopeless. Presently a new idea occurred to him, and he began picking and pulling at the fuzzy exterior of his armor on his right side. If he could only make a hole big enough to get his hand on the pistol degravitor that pressed against his thigh the rest would be easy. But the armor proved as baffling as its fastenings, for interwoven with its tough fibres were tiny metal wires of extraordinary strength. He was still picking hopelessly at these wires when the madman in the cell across from him, who had been quiet up to this time, spoke. “Who are you, white man?” he asked. Surprised at the calm tones of this perfectly sane question, Ted replied: “Men call me Ted Dustin.” “A peculiar name,” mused Shen Ho. “From what part of Ma Gong do you come?” “I am from Du Gong,” replied Ted. “From Du Gong! Are you mad, or can it be that I am as mad as I have pretended to be? If you are from Du Gong how did you get here?” “In my space flier,” answered Ted.