The heliocar landed; they sprang out and approached the imposing building of several stories. Guards uniformed in scarlet, black and gold standing just outside the door held ray pistols in readiness. Smith hurried his "guests" past; they entered a long, high-ceilinged room. It gave a first impression of stately luxury. The walls were paneled with rich dark wood, hung with a few striking paintings. It was almost empty of furniture; a heavy desk stood alone toward the farther end. A tall young man rose from behind this desk, advanced rapidly to meet them.
"My guests, sir," said Smith. "Captain Brand of the Fury, and a reporter."
"The mysterious Mr. Cain!" Bill gasped.
Indeed, Mr. Cain stood before him, a tall man, slender and wiry, with a certain not unhandsome sternness in his dark face. A smile twinkled in his black, enigmatic eyes—which none the less looked as if they might easily flash with fierce authority.
"And Mr. Win——or, I believe you asked me to call you Bill. You seem a very hard man to evade!"
Still smiling enigmatically, Mr. Cain took Bill's hand, and then shook hands with Captain Brand.
"But—are you the Prince of Space?" Bill demanded.
"I am. Cain was only a nom de guerre, so to speak. Gentlemen, I welcome you to the City of Space!"
"And you kidnaped yourself?"