Yaxa, the prisoner, was of course ignorant of all these things as he sat alone in his secret prison. Food came to him by dumbwaiter and he did not see a human face. It was not until the middle of January that the door of his cell opened and admitted a Terrestrial--a Terrestrial whom he recognized as one of the three who had captured him. "Courage!" said Neil Andresson. "We're getting out of here." Yaxa looked at him levely. They made a striking contrast; the saddle-colored Martian--with his puffy body, his spidery legs and his head that, except for the brilliant eyes, seemed to be a high-craniumed skull covered only with skin--looked like a weird cartoon of the Terrestrial with his fine, muscular proportions, his smooth cheeks and his smiling countenance. "Are you going to torture me further?" demanded Yaxa. "Not I," said Neil. "If you'll remember, I never offered you violence at any time. I was not in sympathy with the measures taken to wring information from you, though I was in the minority and had to countenance them. For that matter, I'm not in sympathy with the Terrestrial cause at all." "Then what are you doing here?" asked the Martian. "I succeeded in being detailed to guard you. I'm going to set you free." Yaxa made a helpless gesture. "What can I do if I am freed? I'll be a stranger in a hostile world. Terrestrials will recognize me for an enemy as far as they can see me. I'll be hunted down and killed or injured or, at the very least, brought back to prison." "I've provided for that, else I would not have made the suggestion," said Neil. "Here, take this pistol. And see the cloak I am wearing. Take it, drape it about you. At first glance you might pass for a Terrestrial. Come, I know where your ship is kept. We'll escape in it." "We?" repeated the captive. "Yes, I'm going with you, back to your asteroid. It's within space-shot now. I cannot remain here, I would be punished as a traitor." His eyes shining with new hope, Yaxa donned Neil's cape and followed him into a deserted hallway, then out into a street where a closed surface-car awaited them. They entered this and traveled, by traffic-way and by lift, to the very top level of the city. When Neil opened the door Yaxa peeped out and saw that they had reached a rocketport. Hangars stood at every hand, with rows of space craft, large and small, on all sides. But nearest to them and isolated from the others was the fast Martian scout which had been his when he had flown to his capture. "Quick, we have no time to lose," Neil urged him, and they left the car. A dozen steps took them to the side of the space-ship. A lock-panel was open and the two of them entered the inner compartment. Sukune and Bull Mike looked up curiously from their seats inside. The leveled pistols of the two intruders prompted the young guards to raise their hands. "What's the meaning of this?" asked Sukune.