But Gates had leapt out of range. Vehemently he was darting hither and thither among the Saturnians, slashing in all directions with the furiously swinging blade. He could see the octopus limbs of half a score of the creatures writhing simultaneously toward him, interfering with one another in their convulsive movements. However, they aimed not at him but at the blade, and always they struck at the point where it had been just a fraction of a second before their blows descended. Thus, by a hair's breadth, Gates was able to elude them. [Illustration: Gates fired desperately at the advancing creatures.] How long would he be able to keep up the unequal struggle? His strength was waning; his breath was coming hard and fast; its very sound would have betrayed him had it not been for the other noises of battle. Already he had wounded several adversaries, though not mortally; their golden-yellow blood flowed, but they still fought on. Time after time he felt himself brushed by their sweeping arms; felt their deathly cold claws against his skin. Once, by less than a finger's breadth, he escaped a lashing envenomed tail. Even as he lodged this peril, Gates recognized the huge gray-green lips of Red-Hood. He saw the malevolent red light in the eyes of his chief antagonist; and, like a matador fleeing a bull, he ducked and ran sideways. Then, with ferocious suddenness, he turned and swung the flashing blade upward. A fraction of a second too soon or too late, and he would have been lost. A few inches too high, or a few inches too low, and he might as well not have fought at all. But Red-Hood, stooping low as he charged head forward, had exposed the vulnerable left shoulder. And straight through the susceptible spot burst the cleaving, electrically driven blade. * * * * * Red-Hood's roar of rage and agony, as he sank amid hideous convulsions, was all but drowned by the dismayed bellowings of his companions. One and all, as though they had hit a blank wall, halted in shrieking consternation at the sight of their smitten leader. And Gates, springing forward, profited from that instant of demoralization, to strike another of the creatures through the Middle Nerve Center. As he leapt back, barely in time to avert the drive of the swinging tail, he made an amazing observation. The creatures were all in flight! From their terrorized cries, he knew that they thought they were fighting not one man, but an invisible army! But the last of the monsters, as he turned to flee, swung back briefly. Crouched in a cranny against a coal-bin, was a cowering form, its eyes wide with terror. "You, nignig--you, you are the root of all our trouble!" rasped the Saturnian. "You have betrayed us! You shall be punished!" Out swung the terrible tail; its barbed point, with the speed of an arrow, plunged into Dunbar's heart. And as the victim, gasping, collapsed in his own blood, his assailant went swinging away up a great cobweb.