The Chief caught my arm. “There he goes,” he shouted. Then he started to run into the night. Sure enough, in the starlight I could make out a figure walking quickly away from us. At the Chief’s shout it began to run. And taking a long breath I began to run also. The man ahead ran on for perhaps a hundred feet or so and then suddenly darted into the doorway of a low stone building. As the Chief and I drew closer, I gave a sudden shout, for I remembered that low building only too well. It was the place in which I had been imprisoned and in which I had killed Ivanovitch and his satellite. We had gained rapidly on the figure ahead during that run, and the latter had had to pause to get the door open, so that we were close behind him when he finally disappeared into the building. He slammed the door in our faces, but it did not lock. We got it open almost at once, and as it swung outward, a dazzling glare sprang up from the middle of the room beyond. The cylinder there had suddenly flashed into dazzling fire. I shaded my eyes as well as I could from the glare, and presently I realized that a man was crouching in a corner by the big machine which operated the cylinder. But the glare held us stationary on the threshold for a moment, and while we hesitated, the man by the machine darted forward and flung open the side of the cylinder which opened toward us. In the bright light I could see the swathed black silk about the slender limbs. Before the searing heat that sprang out at us the Chief and I shrank back a step or two. At the same moment the man we pursued sent forth a wailing shriek that I shall remember as long as I live and suddenly leapt through the opening into the heart of the cylinder. For an instant our straining eyes saw him glow suddenly red and almost transparent, in a bower of leaping, licking flames. Then we turned hastily away. When we looked back again, only the glowing cylinder and the searing heat remained. As the miserable man leapt into the cylinder there had come a rush of feet from behind us. And I recovered from the shock of such a terrible death to the consciousness that some one was plucking at my arm. “Clayton! Clayton! And you, Chief! For God’s sake come away! Come out! Quick!” It was Moore’s voice. We turned and stumbled out of the building in response to the urgency in Moore’s tone. But we had taken hardly three steps from the door when there came a tremendous flash of light, followed by a roar that seemed to shake the world. With it, something crashed against my chest and I fell to the ground. “Chief,” I called faintly, “get Natalie——” and then darkness swooped down upon me. I have a vague recollection of regaining at least partial consciousness some time later. I seemed to be lying full length on a couch in a brightly lighted room, and I was struggling in some way with a racking, searing agony in my chest. It seemed to me, too, that Natalie was kneeling beside me, her lovely face pressed close to mine.