“‘Then, in the name of the Great Architect, lend me a rifle and a yellow pennant, so that I may join his forces in safety.’ “He readily complied. In fact, he seemed to know all about the _coup_. And thus it happened that I rose into the air, flying the accursed colors of the new dynasty. But, even as my plane left the ground, there passed overhead a Formian fleet of bombers headed northward, undoubtedly bound for Lake Luno on some devilish errand. It was up to me to interfere.” “You mean to say,” interjected Myles, “that you dared to tackle, single-handed, a whole squadron of Mooni-trained ant men?” Toron shrugged his youthful shoulders. “Why not?” said he. “I am a graduate of the ant-university. It would be a good lark. ‘A Cupian can only die once, so he might just as well die happily,’ as Poblath here would say. Besides,” and his face hardened, “it was necessary for my cousin Lilla’s sake. So up I went and after them. “My newly acquired yellow banner gave me free passage into the very midst of the fleet. And then I let loose with the rifle. Oh, it was fun, to see the black beasts drop. My only regret was that I didn’t have explosive bullets, like those which we used in the War of Liberation. “Of course,” ruefully, “eventually they shot me down, but it was a great fight while it lasted.” “Were you hurt?” asked the earth-man. “Oh, no,” the boy replied, “they merely got my fuel tank, and so I was able to make a fair landing one hundred stads or so north of Kuana. But down they all came on top of me.” “And captured you?” inquired Myles. XII THE TROUBLES OF TORON “No, the ant-fliers did not capture me,” replied the young Prince Toron, “for when they punctured my fuel tank, I fluttered down and landed in a tree in some thick woods. Of course this wrecked my plane, but that didn’t matter, for the machine was no good anyhow without any fuel, and where could I have my tank repaired or get any alcohol, with the whole country plunged in civil war? “The ants, however, had good cause to conserve their planes, and so must needs land in a field at some distance from me, in order to pursue me. If they had only had sense enough to drop a few bombs on my tree, they would have had me then and there, and the succession to the throne would have been infinitely simplified. But luckily they tried to capture me. Undoubtedly they had by this time figured out who I was, and had decided that I would be a worthwhile prize to bring back alive to my loving brother. “I remained in the tree until I saw them hover down to the ground, and thus knew what their plans were; then, shedding my toga, I hastily rigged up a dummy of myself, left it in the cockpit, and clambered down the tree. The branches were close, and the foliage thick, so that climbing up that tree would be absolutely impossible for a creature so large as a Formian.