"I am Tara," she said. The little smile that played on her lips was amused now as her gaze roved the six-feet-four figure of Duroh.
"Tara? Tara what?" he demanded. "You're an Earthgirl of course. You must be. Then how did you get here—"
It was dawning on me now; the only combination of possible circumstances which logically it could be.
"You are the leader of your men?" Tara said quietly to Duroh.
"I—" Carruthers began. But a look from Duroh checked him—Duroh's look of bold confidence that he could handle this girl.
"Yes, I am," Duroh said. "I brought them here, on an exploring expedition from earth. We're not going to harm your little world. I killed one of your men—what in the hell did they dare set upon us for? See here now, what we want is—"
"You do talk rather too much," she interrupted. Her gaze left Duroh and fastened on Alan. "You—the young one—what is your name?"
"Alan. Alan Grant," he stammered softly.
"You have a nice voice. You look like a nice young man. And you?"
"I'm James Carruthers," Carruthers said. "If you'll let me explain—"