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No, he must be mistaken--the branches of the trees and a low bush had taken on

an unnatural semblance in the horizontal rays of the setting sun. He turned and

continued upon his way; but as he cast another side glance in the direction of the

object of his interest, the sun's rays were shot back into his eyes from a glistening

point of radiance among the trees.

Gahan shook his head and walked quickly toward the mystery, determined now

to solve it. The shining object still lured him on and when he had come closer to it

his eyes went wide in surprise, for the thing they saw was naught else than the

jewel-encrusted emblem upon the prow of a small flier. Gahan, his hand upon his

short-sword, moved silently forward, but as he neared the craft he saw that he

had naught to fear, for it was deserted. Then he turned his attention toward the

emblem. As its significance was flashed to his understanding his face paled and

his heart went cold--it was the insignia of the house of The Warlord of Barsoom.

Instantly he saw the dejected figure of the captive being led back to her prison in

the valley just beyond the hills. Tara of Helium! And he had been so near to

deserting her to her fate. The cold sweat stood in beads upon his brow.

A hasty examination of the deserted craft unfolded to the young jed the whole

tragic story. The same tempest that had proved his undoing had borne Tara of

Helium to this distant country. Here, doubtless, she had landed in hope of

obtaining food and water since, without a propellor, she could not hope to reach

her native city, or any other friendly port, other than by the merest caprice of

Fate. The flier seemed intact except for the missing propellor and the fact that it

had been carefully moored in the shelter of the clump of trees indicated that the

girl had expected to return to it, while the dust and leaves upon its deck spoke of

the long days, and even weeks, since she had landed. Mute yet eloquent proofs,

these things, that Tara of Helium was a prisoner, and that she was the very

prisoner whose bold dash for liberty he had so recently witnessed he now had not

the slightest doubt.

The question now revolved solely about her rescue. He knew to which tower she

had been taken--that much and no more. Of the number, the kind, or the

disposition of her captors he knew nothing; nor did he care--for Tara of Helium he

would face a hostile world alone. Rapidly he considered several plans for

succoring her; but the one that appealed most strongly to him was that which

offered the greatest chance of escape for the girl should he be successful in

reaching her. His decision reached he turned his attention quickly toward the

flier. Casting off its lashings he dragged it out from beneath the trees, and,

mounting to the deck tested out the various controls. The motor started at a

touch and purred sweetly, the buoyancy tanks were well stocked, and the ship

answered perfectly to the controls which regulated her altitude. There was

The Chessmen of Mars