I offer thee my life for his! Thou wilt judge aright, for thou knowest the hearts of men and wilt wrong no man by the weight of a grain of sand.

Thou art easy to be reconciled, and merciful! There is no God but Allah, and M'hamed is his Prophet!" With no further word, he leaped.
Just a fraction of a second, a dim-whirling object plummeted into space.

It vanished.
As best he understood, Rrisa had solved his problem and had paid his score.
The Master wakened early, with the late May sun already Slanting in from far, dun and orange desert-levels, gilding the metal walls of his cabin.

For a few moments he lay there, half dreamily listening to the deep bass hum of the propellers, the slight give and play of the air-liner as she shuddered under the powerful drive of her Norcross-Brail engines.
His thoughts first dwelt a little on yesterday's battle and on the wondrous treasure now in his hands.

Then they touched the approaching campaign beyond the Iron Mountains in regions never yet seen by any white man's eye, and for a while enveloped some of the potentialities of that campaign.
But "Captain Alden" recurring to his mind, drove away such stern imaginings.