Cautiously I opened the door of our closet and looked into the main cabin beyond. It lay in darkness. Silently we filed out. The silence of the tomb lay upon the flier, but from far below arose the subdued noises of the city. So far, so good! Then, without sound, without warning, a burst of brilliant light illuminated the interior of the cabin. I felt my fingers tighten upon my sword-hilt as I glanced quickly about.
Directly opposite us, in the narrow doorway of a small cabin, stood a tall man whose handsome harness betokened the fact that he was no common warrior. In either hand he held a heavy Barsoomian pistol, into the muzzles of which we found ourselves staring.
CHAPTER VIII
HANDS UP!
In quiet tones he spoke the words of the Barsoomian equivalent of our Earthly hands up! The shadow of a grim smile touched his lips, and as he saw us hesitate to obey his commands he spoke again.
“Do as I tell you and you will be well off. Keep perfect silence. A raised voice may spell your doom; a pistol shot most assuredly.”
Gor Hajus raised his hands above his head and we others followed his example.
“I am Bal Zak,” announced the stranger. My heart slumped.
“Then you had better commence firing,” said Gor Hajus, “for you will not take us alive and we are four to one.”
“Not so fast, Gor Hajus,” admonished the captain of the Vosar, “until you learn what is in my mind.”
“That, we already know for we heard you speak of the large reward that awaited the captor of Vad Varo and Gor Hajus,” snapped the assassin of Toonol.