"It all depends on whether they've moved my torpoon from the trap where it stuck. You didn't see it anywhere? Well, it's got to be still in the trap, and we've got to get to it. It'll carry both of us. The whale that led me into the trap is dead, and we can finish prying the torp loose with your crowbar." Ken nodded. "But the guard?" Chanley Beddoes said harshly: "I'm going to kill it!" Ken looked at him. His pale, drawn face was contorted; his hands clenched and unclenched. He repeated: "Yes, kill it! I've a score to settle with these devils, anyway. I'll take him unawares. One blow'll do it, if it's placed right. Then, down the corridor and to the trap. I think I remember the way." Ken thought it out, and shook his head. "What's the matter?" Beddoes asked. "We'd better not," he said "Not yet. And never, if we can help it." "Why not?" Beddoes cried in great surprise. "Don't you see? They haven't really harmed us. They're friendly. Yes, they've kept you prisoner and they'll keep me, too--but probably they don't think that's any terrible hardship for us. And they don't realize how much we want to get free." "What will we do then?" Beddoes broke in impatiently. "When I see the leader again I've got to get it over that we want to be released. It's a better risk than killing this guard, anyway. They're disposed to be friendly; but if you killed one there'd be the devil to pay." Ken paused, and his eyes closed. He said wearily: "But, I'm dog tired; no sleep for twenty hours. Let me sleep an hour or two; my head'll be much clearer and we'll talk it over." Chanley Beddoes said nothing. Ken yawned and stretched his body as comfortably as he could on the slime-coated rocks. Dazed from the rush of amazing events his eyelids closed at once, and soon his breathing settled into a regular beat. * * * * * Perhaps half an hour later, a shape moved in the dank gloom of the underwater cavern. The top plane of water rippled softly; little wavelets eddied against the rocks and whispered as the shape slipped down underneath. Then there was silence, no movement; and the water again calmed into a black sheet, smooth as glass. For minutes it stayed so, while Ken's deep, regular breathing stirred the air. Then suddenly the water's calm was broken. Through its rippling waves the shape reappeared, rivulets streaming from it. Quickly hauling itself up on the rocks, it clambered towards the sleeper. For a moment it paused; then its helmet swung back, revealing Chan's tense, pale face. A hand reached out and gripped the sleeper's arm. A voice called: "Ken! Wake up! Hurry!" Even as the words reverberated in the close bowl, the black mirror of water stirred once more. Something pierced through and drifted idly on the surface. It was a large brown-skinned shape, apparently lifeless. "Ken!" called Chan anxiously again. The first torpooner stirred. Out of the depths of slumber he mumbled: "What's the matter?"