It was several minutes before Eleanor, her face white, turned to Dunbar. "For God's sake, don't you see--don't you see, you _must_ let me go! They'll be back here--they'll be back soon, and strike me dead--" But Dunbar had returned to the laboratory, where he had switched on the motors. "If I do let you go, they'll strike _me_ dead!" he snapped back. "Lord! Haven't you gotten me into trouble enough already?" So speaking, he slammed the door with a violent jerk. * * * * * Eleanor, sinking into a chair, her head buried in her hands, was driven more sharply than ever against the same dreary problem that had baffled her during all these days of her captivity. How to escape? The single door to the apartment was locked and securely barred. The single accessible window gave upon a concrete court four stories beneath--and, lest she be tempted to leap out, her approach was impeded by a barbed wire barricade. Telephone connections had been cut--and there was no neighbor to whom she could call through the sound-proof walls. No! she was utterly balked! Still, what matter that she might die a little ahead of the mass of mankind? After all, that was of no importance--but what might be vital was her chance to warn others of Dunbar's crime against humanity, if only she could escape! True, she had already tried to give warning, and had merely been laughed at; yet she had lately conceived a new idea, which might offer a dim hope if once she were free. Half swooning with the heat, she heard through the laboratory door the whirring of motors; and her head ached dully, and she burst into tears, for the dead have as much chance of rising as she had of beating down the monstrous forces ranged against her. CHAPTER VIII The Revolt of Yellow-Claws Hour after hour Gates had been watching his captors. Hour after hour he had been scheming, observing, hoping. With the heightened mental quickness of his paralyzed state, he was searching for a weak spot in the armor of the foe. "Surely," he reflected, "there must be some flaw that makes them vulnerable." And it was this thought that put him on the track of the wild idea that appeared to offer his only prospect of freedom. By carefully following everything the invaders said and did, he was able to grasp the meaning of many words and phrases in their language. Even with his remarkable new rapidity of apprehension, he learned no more than a four-year-old might learn of English--yet this little went far, particularly as the enemy did not suspect that any mere earthling could be so intelligent.