slit in the observatory pane was open. The dark figure of one of the bandits on guard outside came and called softly up to us.
"Started. Hans?"
"Starting."
"Should it go wrong, call out."
"Yes. But it will not."
"There was an alarm, relayed probably to Great New York, the commander said, from Spawn's garden. These cursed prisoners—"
"Shut! You keep watch out there. It is starting."
The guard slunk away. My attention went back to the mirror. An image was formed there now, coming from the eye of the lens upon De Boer's forehead. It swayed with his walking. He was evidently leading his men, for none of them were in the scene. The dark rocks were moving past. The lights of the mine were ahead and below, but coming nearer.
The audiphone hummed and crackled. And through it, De Boer's low-voiced command sounded:
"To the left is the better path. Keep working to the left."