"Back there," echoed Cragley dejectedly. "We haven't a chance. I thought maybe we could make Deliphon with the stuff before these outlaws got wise." "We followed the trail easily from the air," remarked Cartley. "First, we found the space ship and the cylinder. After that, we just watched for the green campfire markers is all." "Campfire markers?" questioned Cragley in excitement. "What do----" "There comes Ledageree!" interrupted Jasper. The brigand chieftain and his men were emerging from the bushes with the little boxes stacked in their arms. "We're sunk now!" exclaimed Quentin. Impulsively, the captain took a step in the direction of the space ship. One of the outlaws guarding us stepped forward before the captain, bringing up his pistol. An evil light shone in his eyes, the fanatical gleam of the confirmed killer. It was the man's intention to kill Cragley where he stood. * * * * * But the act was never consummated. A blank look overspread the outlaw's face. His face held that strange expression which is so characteristic of the electrocuted man. He tottered and fell face downward. Uttering a cry of agony, another of the brigands fell, seizing frantically at a shaft which protruded from his body, a shaft of crude hammered metal. While we all stared in surprise at the fallen men, Jasper Jezzan, quick to take stock of the situation, looked out over the high grass. "Troglodytes!" he cried. "That's one o' their metal darts, Ben!" Substantiating Jasper's discovery, there came a chorus of yells from all sides. Heads came into sight above the tall grass. Darts flew thick and fast, yet every one found its mark. The cave men of Venus brandished their weapons preparatory to rushing in upon us in overwhelming numbers. The outlaws blazed away at the savages, but the latter proved to be difficult targets at which to aim. They were always on the move, running, hiding, reappearing to launch their deadly darts from another direction. Ledageree dropped his armful of the precious metal and screamed an order. "Into the ship!" It was then that I noticed the curious fact that none of the passengers or crew of the _C-49_ had been hit. The remaining outlaws attempted to herd us into the ship. Their numbers rapidly diminished under the hail of darts cast at them so accurately by the troglodytes. Many of the cave men toppled over in death as the outlaws made a hit, but more came to take the places of those fallen. "There's the white man--the renegade!" shouted Quentin. Indeed, it was so. The troglodytes were led by the man who had broken into our camp on the previous night. Seizing a pistol from one of the fallen brigands, Ben hastily pointed it at the yelling cave dwellers who were running full force in our direction, the renegade at their head. "No. Ben, no!" cried Jasper. "They're friends!" "It's Brady!" shouted one of the passengers of the _C-49_. "Chris Brady!" "Impossible!" exclaimed Cragley. "He's dead!"