Tommy growled unintelligibly and fell to walking around their shelter with nervous strides, keeping just within the dry area and glaring savagely into the steaming jungle. Blaine smiled grimly. Nerves! Tommy always was like that; always had to be on the go and doing something. His own nerves were jumpy to-day. They were in hot water this time, for sure. Had to keep on though; they were still alive, or at least half alive; and the solar system was intact as yet. If only Tom Farley would quit his infernal tramping! "Cut it out!" Blaine snapped peevishly. "You'll have us both bughouse. Can't you sit down and take it easy?" Tommy stopped in his tracks. "Sorry, Blaine," he said. But he remained standing, staring off into the jungle. Then, suddenly he exclaimed, "Say, I'm going for some of those grapes, or whatever they are. I'll bring a mess of them back and we can wait till Ulana wakes up. She'll know whether they're poison or not." "Oh, go ahead. But don't get yourself lost. Yell out if you can't find us and I'll answer." "Okay. Don't worry about me." And in three steps Tommy was swallowed up in the undergrowth. Blaine stole a glance at the girl and something caught at his throat. God, she was beautiful! There must be some way of getting her out of this mess. Dantor, perhaps, might show the way. He ought to be sending that message soon--a mental one, Tiedus said. Poor kid, Tiedus; gone to the happy hunting grounds now, no question of that. And he intended to advise Dantor from the spirit world. As simple as that, it was. They were game, these Rulans. Fatalists, though, and resigned to the inevitable; hopeless. But a wonderful people in a rotten world. Soon he felt his head droop and in a moment he began to doze. When he awoke it was to the touch of Ulana's soft fingers on his arm. "We are alone?" she asked. "Lord!" he exclaimed, rising stiffly and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "How long have I napped? I shouldn't have." A swift look around the small clearing disclosed the fact that Tommy was missing. He shouldn't have let him go. A sudden panic gripped him. "Tommy! Tommy!" he called out. * * * * * There was not even an echo in reply. Only the whispering of the jungle overhead and all around them. His friend was gone. "Ulana," he said, his voice trembling, "we _are_ alone. Farley is lost; swallowed up in this terrible forest." And then, suddenly, she was in his arms. Those wondrous blue eyes, swimming in tears, looked into his own. Soft red lips, upturned, met his lips; clung there. "I am sorry, my Carson," she said softly, when he had released her: "sorry that your good friend is lost. But perhaps," more brightly--"he has but strayed away. When the mental message comes you will be reunited. He will hear it as well as you."