"Onward, men of Earth!" she cried, and Seaton, stepping up to the window, rapped sharply upon the glass with the butt of his pistol and raised both hands high above his head in the universal sign of peace. In response, a man of Herculean mold, so splendidly decorated that his harness was one blazing mass of jewels, waved his arm and shouted a command. The crowd promptly fell back, leaving a clear space of several hundred yards. The man, evidently one in high command, unbuckled his harness, dropping every weapon, and advanced toward the Skylark, both arms upraised in Seaton's gesture. Seaton went to the door and started to open it. "Better talk to him from inside," cautioned Crane. "I don't think so, Mart. He's peaceable, and I've got my gun in my pocket. Since he doesn't know what clothes are he'll think I'm unarmed, which is as it should be; and if he shows fight, it won't take more than a week for me to get into action." "All right, go on. DuQuesne and I will come along." "Absolutely not. He's alone, so I've got to be. I notice that some of his men are covering us, though. You might do the same for them, with a couple of the machine guns." Seaton stepped out of the car and went to meet the stranger. When they had approached to within a few feet of each other the stranger stopped. He flexed his left arm smartly, so that the finger-tips touched his left ear, and smiled broadly, exposing a row of splendid, shining, green teeth. Then he spoke, a meaningless jumble of sounds. His voice, though light and thin, nevertheless seemed to be of powerful timbre. Seaton smiled in return and saluted. "Hello, Chief. I get your idea all right, and we're glad you're peaceable, but your language doesn't mean a thing in my young life." The Chief tapped himself upon the chest, saying distinctly and impressively: "Nalboon." "Nalboon," repeated Seaton, and added, pointing to himself: "Seaton." "See Tin," answered the stranger, and again indicating himself, "Domak gok Mardonale." "That must be his title," thought Seaton rapidly. "Have to give myself one, I guess." "Boss of the Road," he replied, drawing himself up with pride. The introduction made, Nalboon pointed to the wrecked plane, inclined his head in thanks, and turned to his people with one arm upraised, shouting an order in which Seaton could distinguish something that sounded like "See Tin, Bass uvvy Rood." Instantly every right arm in the assemblage was aloft, that of each man bearing a weapon, while the left arms snapped into the peculiar salute and a mighty cry arose as all repeated the name and title of the distinguished visitor. Seaton turned to the Skylark, motioning to Crane to open the door. "Bring out one of those big four-color signal rockets, Mart!" he called. "They're giving us a royal reception--let's acknowledge it right." * * * * *