Denny took his turn at gambling with death. He shouted ringingly, and ran a dozen steps straight at the monster that was the principal menace. At the last moment he flung himself aside as Jim had done--but this time the stream was not to be drawn. Still most of the deadly liquid was left; the thing's head bulged with it. And no real move could be made till that head was somehow emptied. "Your spear!" panted Denny, who was armed only with the three-foot club which was all that was left of the spear that had entered the acid bag. Jim nodded. As he had done under the acid vat, he drew it back for a throw--and shot it forward with all the power of his magnificent shoulders. The glittering length of steel slashed into the flabby, living syringe. A fountain of molasseslike liquid gushed out. * * * * * The move had not been elaborately reasoned out; it had been a natural; almost instinctive one, simply a blow struck for the purpose of draining the dread reservoir of its sticky contents. But the results--as logical and inevitable as they were astounding and unforeseen--were such that the move could not have been wiser had all the gods of war conspired to help the two men with shrewd advice. The searching spear-point had evidently found the brain behind the syringe of the thing; for it reared in an agony that could only have been that of approaching death, and ran amuck. No longer did the ruling brain that crouched behind it have the power to guide its movements, it seemed. The telepathic communications had been snapped with that crashing spear-point. It charged blindly, undirected, in havoc-wreaking circles. And in an instant the whole aspect of the battle had been changed. The ring of living armor presented by the other soldiers was broken as the enormous, dying termite charged among them. Furthermore, the fountain of thick brown liquid exuding from its head, smeared the limbs of the soldiers the blind, crazed thing touched, as well as its own. In thirty seconds or less the wounded giant was down, still alive, but wriggling feebly in a binding sheath of its own poison. And with it, so smeared as to be utterly out of the struggle, were three of the others. Quick to seize the advantage, Jim leaped to wrench his spear from the conquered giant's head. And side by side he and Denny started again the charge against the ruler's guards, which, while still mighty in defense, were by their very nature unable to attack. * * * * * Three of these guards were left. Two of them were the freaks with the great, armored, bung-heads--and the soft and vulnerable bodies. The third was of the syringe type, with invulnerable horn breastplate and body armor--but with a head that, now its fatal liquid was exhausted, was useless in battle.