I curled myself down behind the biggest of the stalagmites. I was wholly in shadow. I lay perfectly still, and my heart slowed its beat so that the blood hissed more quietly in my ears and I could hear with wonderful clarity. Guards spoke nearby. They were searching for me, checking methodically through every cranny of the hall. I flexed my fingers. A silent chuckle shook me. One came cautiously to the entrance of the cave and bent and stared futilely. I saw him glance around for his companions, then advance slowly into the place. When he was nearly above me I rose as swiftly as a panther. He had no time to drag in breath for a yell. I clamped his mouth tight with one hand, broke his neck with the other. It was done beautifully. In that moment I found pride in my perfect coordination, in my excellence as a killing machine as deadly as a king cobra. I laid him down in shadow. I traded my coat for his uniform jacket, which was too snug in the shoulders but fitted well enough otherwise. I put on my shoes and his visored cap and walked out of the cave. I went along the aisle, face averted from the other guards, and found a stair well and slipped into it. Up went the hue and cry before I was halfway down! I leaped to the second floor entrance, feeling their eyes already on my back as I passed through it, and went loping for the nearest window, a tall square of moontouched glittering. I hurled the thing open, swung onto the sill, and launched myself into space without even looking at the ground. It rushed up at me. As naturally as a cat might have done it, I landed on toes and fingers. Then I was running. No shouts broke out behind me. They had not seen my leap. I shed the jacket and cap as I ran. Then I remembered my coat, lying across the dead guard. No identification there--until they had time to check dry-cleaner's marks. I had an hour or two at least. I headed for my hotel, a dingy, half-respectable pile on the edge of the downtown district. An hour to pack, and I would be on my way. There was something, or someone, calling to me from a great distance. I did not know what it was nor where. My instincts would carry me to it. I wasted no time in wondering. I let my mind slip out of gear, put my whole energy into my traveling. When I had run far enough, I found an owl cab and let it carry me the rest of the distance. It seemed oddly alien to me to trust to anything but my own powerful legs; but I forced myself to sit back and let the civilized habits of Bill Cuff take the upper hand. _I_ would rest for a little while. CHAPTER IV As I stuffed things into my big battered Gladstone I found myself changing.