"We must be nearly to the other side," Bradford wheezed. "We've got to make it before dark. It's a cinch we can't camp here." Canham looked across the few hundred yards remaining and shook his head wearily. "This thing is like a moat; I get the feeling that we're being kept out by one defense after another. Those harmless looking, poisonous little beasts that killed Palmer, the wind-devils that got Rodriguez and now--this." Bradford repressed a shiver. "Come on!" he said roughly. "Don't start telling your ghost stories here, for the love of heaven! Save them for your kids." They plopped off the further side of the mound, their feet making gobbling noises as they lifted them one after the other in the tenacious, clinging mud. Bradford halted suddenly. "There it is," he breathed. "You can see the shore from here...." Caution forgotten, they plunged ahead, panting with effort. Canham gave a sudden startled cry. "Brad! I can't--lift--my foot...! I can't move it!" Bradford, a few steps to the right, felt his heart leap sickeningly at the stark terror in the voice. "Take it easy! Get a grip on my pole--_now_!" He heaved strongly, feet slipping, unable to get a purchase to make his strength felt against the pull of the quicksand. The perspiration trickled into his smarting eyes. Through Canham's faceplate, he could see his face set in agonized strain as he attempted to free his feet in their heavy boots, the water level rising from waist to armpits as he struggled. Bradford redoubled his efforts, muscles cracking as he tried to heave the other free bodily. Canham relaxed suddenly. "It's no use," he panted heavily. "Don't come closer--it'll just get both of us. Don't stay and watch it--it'll just make it harder. Wait a minute--here, catch!" With a last convulsive effort, he jerked loose the oxygen tank and gave it a desperate throw. Bradford automatically caught it, nearly going off-balance and righting himself with panic-stricken effort. "Hold on! hold on--" he gritted. "I'll get some branches from that shrub; you can throw yourself forward so I can get a grip on you." Canham looked at him palely. "No use. But, I'm not going under with my helmet on, still alive, under--_this_!" He shuddered queasily, and with one quick jerk freed his faceplate as he went under. For a moment the water boiled furiously as the remaining oxygen in his suit released. Then Bradford stood alone, staring stupidly with shock, watching as the bubbles rose more and more slowly and died away. He had no recollection of floundering the remaining hundred yards to the shore. Physically sick and shaking with horror, he ploughed through the shallowing ooze and fell headlong on wet, but solid earth. * * * * *