The pavilion took shape in the lamp-lit gloom. Bryan was walking toward it, when a burly figure stepped out of a patch of shadow a few yards ahead. "Hold it, mister! Nobody's allowed in the park tonight." Bryan chuckled, recognizing Pat Mulvaney. "Take it easy, Pat." "Oh, it's you, Terry." Mulvaney strode forward. "How did you get in this time--sneak past the men we have around the front of the park?" "Miller passed me through," Bryan explained. He and the patrolman spent several minutes discussing what had happened the previous night. Bryan revealed nothing more than he had already told the police, but he mentioned the death of the man he had seen attacked. Mulvaney was grim. "Think anything will happen tonight, Terry?" "There's a good chance it will." "Well, I'll be ready for it." Mulvaney slapped his holstered gun. He left, then, to continue his patrol of the area around the pavilion. Bryan sat down on a bench and lighted a cigarette. An uneasy thought had risen in his mind. He didn't know if Mulvaney would be able to cause any real harm in the event that Leeta appeared, but he didn't want the girl hurt. Time passed with tortuous slowness. The tense hush that lay over the park seemed to deepen. Bryan spoke to Mulvaney when the patrolman reached him on his rounds, but otherwise the monotony of the wait remained unbroken. Bryan was fighting off a growing sleepiness, when at last he heard the sound he had been alternately hoping and dreading would come--the sound of wings. He saw the flying shapes, then, low against the star-studded sky, beginning their descent toward the pavilion. The structure seemed to be a favorite landmark, perhaps because it was situated in a comparatively remote location and was easy to find in the darkness. * * * * * Mulvaney seemed to have heard the approaching sounds also. He came running from some point on the opposite side of the pavilion, cutting through the columned structure itself as he returned to Bryan. His burly figure appeared on the pavilion steps--and then halted in amazed surprise as he caught sight of the eerily glowing shapes that were now winging downward. Eagerness had pulled Bryan to his feet. The soaring figures were rapidly coming closer, growing more distinct. He saw the giant bird and its escort of mosquito-men. He saw Leeta, slender-limbed, elfin, her gossamer draperies fluttering behind her. The appearance of Mulvaney momentarily tore his attention from the scene. He realized that the patrolman was silhouetted against the pavilion's pale backdrop--a clear target. Leeta and the others would be drawn to him, unaware this time that possible great danger impended. Anxiety hammering within him, Bryan launched himself into a headlong run toward Mulvaney. Already two of the mosquito-men were pulling ahead of the others, skimming directly at the patrolman.