“Why should I? I have in mind the June Bug; she might be set afire through friction, in dropping so quickly through the air.” Watson had a vivid picture of a blazing meteorite, containing the charred bodies of three men, dropping out of-- “My lord need not be concerned with that,” the Jan assured him. “The shell of the car is provided with a number of tiny pores, through which a heat-resisting fluid will be pumped during the manoeuvre. The temperature may be raised a little, but no more. “You see this plug,” touching a hitherto unused knob among the instruments. “By pulling that out, the mechanism of the craft is automatically adjusted to care for every phase of the descent. Nothing else remains to be done, after removing that plug, save to watch the red dot and prepare to step out upon the floor of our starting-place.” “Has the thing ever been done before?” Watson was sparring for time while he gathered his nerve. “I myself have seen it, my lord. The June Bug has been sent up many times, weighted with ballast; the plug was abstracted by clockwork; and in fifty-eight seconds she returned through the open end of the drone, without a hitch. It was beautiful. I have always envied her that plunge. And now I shall have the chance, with the hand of the Jarados as my guide and protector!” Chick had just time to reflect that, if by any chance he got through with this, he ought to be able to pass any test conceivable. He ought to be able to get away with anything. He started to murmur a prayer; but before he could finish, the Jan Lucar leaned over the dial-map for the last time, saw that the red dot was now exactly central over the square that represented the city, and unhesitatingly jerked out the plug. Of what happened next Watson remembered but little. The bottom seemed to have dropped out of the universe. He was conscious of a crushing blur of immensity, of a silent thundering within him--then mental chaos and a stunned oblivion. XXXIX WHO IS THE JARADOS? It was all over. Chick opened his eyes to see the Jan throwing open the plate on the side of the compartment. Neither the soldier nor the Rhamda seemed to have noted Chick's daze. As for the Jan, his blue eyes were dancing with dare-devilry. “That's what I call living!” he grinned. “They can keep on looking for the June Bug all night!” Chick looked out. They were inside the great room from which they had started; the trip was over; the plunge had been made in safety. Chick took a long breath, and held out a hand. “A man after my own heart, Jan Lucar. I foresee that we may have great sport with the Senestro.” “Aye, my lord,” cheerfully. “The presumptuous usurper! I only wish I could kill him, instead of you.” “You are not the only one,” commented the Rhamda. “Half of the Rhamdas would cheerfully act as the chosen one's proxy.”