"In the Crypt!" exclaimed Barry. "Then the dying Martian knew of you when he threatened 'Justice from the Crypt'!"
"Hardly," she smiled. "That was twenty years before I was born—ten years after the first Earthmen came to Mars.
"He couldn't even have known that my parents were hidden there. They were still young, the last of Martian royalty, hidden away by a few faithful servants."
"What did he mean then?"
She shook her head, the black tresses gleaming faintly under the mist. "We never knew."
"Tell me about this Crypt," Barry asked. "And tell me more about your people."
"The Crypt is our ancient burial place. It is underground, dry, and our dead are safe there from animals that would find bodies the shifting sand would not protect.
"Always, we laid our dead to rest there, until Craig Grey placed guards at the doors and forbade the practice."
"He was afraid some weapon was hidden there," reasoned Barry Williams. "It's the only thing the dying Martian's threat could mean."
"What weapon could be there?" Deisanocta asked mournfully. "Our people were always peaceful. They lived beside the wells, growing the food they ate. It took Earthmen to teach them to hate and kill—to know that ore dust was worth blood!"