It went out of sight, vanished. No puff of flame followed. The life that had animated it had come from this pool. Now the life had returned to its source. The dazed Retch lowered his smoking gun. Parker moved silently forward. "Lay down the gun, Johnny Retch!" he said. Retch seemed to stiffen. His back was to Parker. He did not attempt to turn. "You called for me," Parker said. "Here I am. Drop the gun!" Retch snarled, spun, dropping flat as he turned. His eyes were narrowed. They glared at Parker like twin flames of yellow hate. He tried to bring up the gun. Something came through the air, something that he did not see. It grabbed his arms, clutched them with a fierce grip, screamed at him. Mercedes! Retch, with one savage thrust, flung her aside. Again the two yellow eyes glared at Parker as Retch brought up the weapon that he held. "You haven't licked me yet!" Retch screamed. The gun in Parker's hand exploded. Suddenly Retch had three eyes. One of them was in the middle of his forehead. It was round and blue. He stood for a second, transfixed. Something had happened to him. He did not know exactly what it was. He had come here seeking Montezuma's treasure. He had it in the reach of his hand. But something had happened to him. What it was he did not quite know. Something-- He tried to lift the gun he held. His hands would not obey him. Or perhaps the gun had suddenly grown too heavy for him to lift. He could not raise it. The yellow light in his eyes did not change. But suddenly he collapsed, went down, did not move. * * * * * Even after he was on the floor, his eyes remained fixed on Parker, glaring, yellow. Then, little by little, the yellow flames began to go out. In the silence were two sounds. The first, Mercedes, whispering. "'Ave I paid my debt, Beel? I tried." "You have paid it," Parker said. The other sound was that of the old priest beginning the prayers for the dying. He had laid aside his spear. Now he was kneeling again, his voice lifting as he prayed even for those who had mis-used him. Then there was another sound, voices shouting in the distance. The men who had run from this room were trying to regain their courage, trying to find the will to come back again. Parker moved to the girl who sat at the key board. "Effra, my dear, if you would--" Catching his idea, she nodded. Her fingers lifted the image of an alligator from its niche. Parker saw the 'gator waddle from this room of mystery and of magic, from this room of lost science, from this forgotten laboratory of a vanished race. After the alligator, went a jungle cat, full of spit and scratch and the sounds of fury. After the cat went a jaguar, black, fanged, also with yellow eyes.