Classic Audiobook Collection - The Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burroughs ~ Full Audiobook [scifi]

Episode Date: December 26, 2023

The Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burroughs audiobook. Genre: scifi In The Moon Men, Edgar Rice Burroughs turns a futuristic America into a hard-edged battleground for freedom. Generations after a disastrous first contact between Earth and the Moon, humanity lives under the yoke of the Kalkars, ruthless Lunarian conquerors who rule through forced labor, taxes, and terror. In the teeming, fenced-in districts of a broken Chicago, Julian, a young man born into occupation, grows up hearing dangerous whispers about the world that existed before the Moon Men came - and about the long blood feud that began with the original expedition and its bitter betrayals. As Julian is drawn into a secret resistance, he must navigate collaborators, informers, and the constant threat of sudden punishment, all while trying to keep hope alive among people trained to expect defeat. With swift action, stark injustice, and Burroughs' trademark pulp momentum, the novel follows one man and his allies as they gamble everything on the possibility that the Kalkars can be challenged, and that a future beyond servitude is still imaginable. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 00 (00:14:24) Chapter 01 (00:30:17) Chapter 02 (00:43:24) Chapter 03 (01:05:06) Chapter 04 (01:20:28) Chapter 05 (01:41:16) Chapter 06 (02:01:38) Chapter 07 (02:09:40) Chapter 08 (02:21:32) Chapter 09 (02:43:22) Chapter 10 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burroughs. Prologue. The Conquest It was two years after I had first met him aboard the liner Harding that I came across him again. I had just been appointed Secretary of Commerce. He came to my office in Washington on official business during March 1969. I invited him to my home for dinner, and it was later in the evening that I importuned him for the promised story of Julian the 9th.

He laughed good-naturedly. Very well, he exclaimed. Here goes. Let me preface this story as I did the other that I told you on board the liner Harding two years ago, with the urgent request that you attempt to keep constantly in mind the theory that there is no such thing as time, that there is no past and no future, that there is only now. There never has been anything but now. It is a theory analogous to that which still.

that there is no such thing as space. I've told you of the attempt made to reach Mars and the Barsoom and of how it was thwarted by Lieutenant Commander Orthus. That was in the year 2026. The son that was born to Julian V and the Princess Naila in 2036 was the great-grandfather of Julian the 9th, for whose story you have asked me, and in whom I lived again in the 22nd century.

For some reason no further attempts were made to reach Mars with whom we had been in radio communication for 70 years. Possibly it was due to the rise of a religious cult which preached against all forms of scientific progress and which by political pressure was able to mold and influence several successive weak administrations of a notoriously weak party that had had its origin nearly a century before in a group of peace at any price men. In the year 2050, the blow fell.

Lieutenant Commander Orthus, after 24 years upon the moon, returned to Earth with 100,000 calcars and a thousand vagas. In a thousand great ships they came, bearing arms and ammunition, and strange new engines of destruction, fashioned by the brilliant mind of the arch villain of the universe. No one but Orthus could have done it. No one but Orthus would have done it. It had been he who had perfected the engines that had made the Barsoom possible, and after he had become the dominant force among the calcars of the moon, and had aroused their imaginations with tales of the great rich world lying ready and unarmed with an easy striking distance of them, it had been an easy thing to enlist their labor in the building of the ships

and the manufacture of the countless accessories necessary to the successful accomplishment of the great adventure. The moon furnished all the needed materials, the Calcars furnished the labor, and Orthos, the knowledge, the brains, and the leadership. Ten years had been devoted to the spreading of his propaganda and the winning over

of the thinkers, or Calcars, and then 14 years were required to build and outfit the fleet. Five days before they arrived, astronomers detected the fleet as minute specks upon the eye pieces of their telescopes. There was much speculation, but it was Julian V.

Alone who guessed the truth. He warned the governments at London and Washington, but though he was then in command of the international peace fleet, his appeals were treated with levity and ridicule. He knew Orthus, and so he knew that it was easily within the man's ability to construct a fleet, and he also knew that only for one purpose would Orthus return to Earth, with so great a number of ships. It meant war.

And the earth had nothing but a handful of cruisers wherewith to defend herself. There were not available in all the world twenty-five thousand organized fighting men, nor equipment for more than half again that number. The inevitable occurred. Orthus seized London and Washington simultaneously. His well-armed forces met with practically no resistance. There could be no resistance, for there was nothing wherewith to resist. It was a crissed.

Criminal offense to possess firearms, even edged weapons with blades over six inches long were barred by law. Military training, except for the chosen few of the international peace fleet, had been banned for years. And against this pitiable state of disarmament and unpreparedness was brought a force of a hundred thousand well-armed seasoned warriors with engines of destruction that were unknown to earthmen. A description of one alone will suffice to explain the utter hopelessness. of the cause of the earthmen. This instrument, of which the invaders brought but one, was mounted upon the deck of their flagship, and was operated by Orthus in person.

It was an invention of his own, which no Calcar understood or could operate. Briefly, it was a device for the generation of radioactivity at any desired vibratory rate, and for the directing of the resultant emanations upon any given object within its effective range. We do not know what Orthus called it, but the earthmen of that day knew it as an electronic rifle.

It was quite evidently a recent invention, and therefore in some respects crewed. But be that as it may, its effects were sufficiently deadly to permit Orthis to practically wipe out the entire international peace fleet in less than 30 days, as rapidly as the various ships came within range of the electronic rifle. To the laymen, the visual effects induced by this weird weapon were appalling and nerve-shattering, A mighty cruiser, vibrant with life and power, might sail majestically to engage the flagship of the Calcars, when, as by magic, every aluminum part of the cruiser would vanish as mist before the sun, and as nearly 90% of a peace fleet cruiser,

including the hull, was constructed of aluminum, the result may be imagined. One moment there was a great ship forging through the air, her flags and penance flying in the wind, her band playing, her officers and men at their quarters, the next a mass of engines polished wood, cordage, flags, and human beings hurtling earthward to extinction. It was Julian V who discovered the secret of this deadly weapon, and that it accomplished its destruction by projecting upon the ships of the Peace Fleet the vibratory rate of radioactivity identical with that of aluminum.

With the result that, thus excited, the electrons of the attacked substance increased their own vibratory rate to a point that they became dissipated. again into their elemental and invisible state. In other words, aluminum was transmuted into something else that was as invisible and intangible as ether. Perhaps it was ether. Assured of the correctness of his theory, Julian V, withdrew in his own flagship to a remote part of the world, taking with him the few remaining cruisers of the fleet. Orthus searched for them for months, but it was not until the close of the year 2050, that the two fleets met again and for the last time.

Julian V had by this time perfected the plan for which he had gone into hiding, and he now faced the Calcar Fleet, and his old enemy, Orthus, with some assurance of success. His flagship moved at the head of the short column that contained the remaining hope of a world, and Julian V stood upon her deck beside a small and innocent-looking box mounted upon a stout tripod. Orthus moved to meet him. He would destroy the ships one by one as he approached them. He gloated at the easy victory that lay before him. He directed the electronic rifle at the flagship of his enemy and touched a button.

Suddenly, his brows knitted. What was this? He examined the rifle. He held a piece of aluminum before its muzzle and saw the metal disappear. The mechanism was operating, but the ships of the enemy did not disappear. then he guessed the truth, for his own ship was now but a short distance from that of Julian V, and he could see that the whole of the latter was entirely coated with a grayish substance that he sensed at once for what it was, an insulating material that rendered the aluminum

parts of the enemy's fleet immune from the invisible fire of his rifle. Orthos's scowl changed to a grim smile. He turned two dials upon a control box connected with the weapon, and again press the button. instantly the bronze propellers of the Earthman's flagship vanished in thin air, together with numerous fittings and parts above decks. Similarly went the exposed bronze parts of the balance of the internal peace fleet, leaving a squadron of drifting derelix at the mercy of the foe. Julian V's flagship was at that time but a few fathoms from that of Orthus.

The two men could plainly see one another's features. Orthos' expression was savage and gloating, that of Julian V. Sober and dignified. You thought to beat me then, jeered Orthus. God, but I have waited and labored and sweated for this day. I've wrecked a world to best you, Julian V.

To best you and to kill you. But to let you know first that I am going to kill you. To kill you in such a way that man was never before killed as no other brain than mine could conceive of killing. You insulated your aluminum parts, thinking thus to thwart me. But you did not know. Your feeble intellect could not know.

That as easily as I destroyed aluminum, I can, by the simplest of adjustments. Attune this weapon to destroy any one of a hundred different substances, and among them human flesh or bone. That is what I am going to do now, Julian V. First, I am going to dissipate the bony structure of your frame. It will be done painlessly. It may not even result in instant death, and I am hoping that it will not,

for I want you to know the power of a real intellect, the intellect from which you stole the fruits of its efforts for a lifetime. But not again, Julian V, for today you die. First your bones, then your flesh, and after you, your men, and after them your spawn, the sun that the woman I loved bore you. But she, she shall belong to me. Take that memory to hell with you And he turned toward the dials beside his lethal weapon

But Julian V placed a hand upon the little box resting upon the strong tripod before him And he, it was, who touched a button before Orthos had touched his Instantly the electronic rifle vanished beneath the very eyes of Orthos And at the same time the two ships touched And Julian V had leaped the rail to the enemy deck and was running toward his arch-enemy. Orthos stood, gazing horrified,

at the spot where the greatest invention of his giant intellect had stood but an instant before. And then he looked up at Julian V approaching him, and cried out horribly. Stop! he screamed. Always our lives, you have robbed me of the fruits of my efforts.

Somehow you have stolen the secret of this, my greatest invention, and now you've destroyed it. May God in heaven, "'Yes,' cried Julian V, "'and I am going to destroy you, "'unless you surrender to me with all your force.' "'Never!'

"'Almost screamed the man, "'who seemed veritably demented, "'so hideous was his rage. "'Never! "'This is the end, Julian V, for both of us!' "'Even as he uttered the last word, "'he threw a lever mounted upon a control board before him. "'There was a terrific explosion,

"'and both ships bursting into flame "'plunged meteor-like, to the ocean beneath. Thus went Julian V and Orthus to their deaths, carrying with them the secret of the terrible destructive force that the latter had brought with him from the moon. But the earth was already undone. It lay helpless before its conquerors.

What the outcome might have been had Orthus lived, may only remain conjecture. Possibly he would have brought order out of the chaos he had created and instituted a reign of reason. Earthmen would at least have had the advantage of his wonderful intellect and his power to rule the ignorant calcars that he had transported from the moon. There might even have been some hope had the Earthmen banded together against the common enemy, but this they did not do.

Elements who had been discontented with this or that phase of government joined issues with the invaders. The lazy, the inefficient, the defective, whoever placed the blame for their failures upon the shoulders of the successful, swarmed to the banners of the calcars in whom they sensed kindred souls. Political factions, labor and capital each saw, or thought they saw, an opportunity for advantage to themselves in one way or another that was inimical to the interests of the others.

The calcar fleets returned to the moon for more calcars until it was estimated that seven millions of them were being transported to Earth each year. Julian the 6th, with Naila, his moon-made mother lived as did Ortis, the son of Orthus. But my story is not to be of them, but of Julian the 9th, who was born just a century after the birth of Julian the 5th. Julian the 9th will tell his own story. End of Prologue. Chapter 1 of The Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain.

Read by Ben Tucker Chapter 1 The Flag I was born in the Tevos of Chicago, January 1st, 2100 to Julian the 8th and Elizabeth James. My father and mother were not married, as marriages had long since become illegal. I was called Julian the 9th.

My parents were of the rapidly diminishing intellectual class and could both read and write. This learning they imparted to me, although it was very useless learning. It was their religion. Printing was a lost art, and the last of the public libraries had been destroyed almost a hundred years before I reached maturity. So there was little or nothing to read, while to have a book in one's possession was to brand one as of the hated intellectuals, arousing the scorn and derision of the calcare rabble, and the suspicion and persecution of the lunar authorities who ruled us. The first 20 years of my life were uneventful.

As a boy, I played among the crumbling ruins of what must have once been a magnificent city. Pillaged, looted, and burned half a hundred times, Chicago still reared the skeletons of some mighty edifices above the ashes of her former greatness. As a youth, I regretted the departed romance of the long-gone days of my forefathers, when the earthmen still retained sufficient strength to battle for existence. I deplored the quiet stagnation of my own time with only an occasional murder to break the monotony of our black existence. Even the Calcar Guard stationed on the shore of the Great Lake seldom harassed us,

unless there came an urgent call from higher authorities for an additional tax collection, for we fed them well and they had the pick of our women and young girls, almost, but not quite, as you shall see. The commander of the guard had been stationed here for years, and we considered ourselves very fortunate in that he was too lazy and indolent to be cruel or oppressive. His tax collectors were always with us on market days, but they did not exact so much that we had nothing left for ourselves, as refugees from Milwaukee told us was the case there.

I recalled one poor devil from Milwaukee who staggered into our marketplace of a Saturday. He was nothing more than a bag of bones, and he told us that fully 10,000 people had died of starvation, the preceding month in his Tevos. The word Tevos is applied impartially to a district and to the administrative body that misadministters its affairs. No one knows what the word really means, though my mother has told me that her grandfather said that it came from another world, the moon, like cash guard, which also means nothing in particular. One soldier is a cash guard. Ten thousand soldiers are a cash guard. If a man comes with a piece of paper upon which some

something is written that you are not supposed to be able to read, and kills your grandmother, or carries off your sister. You say, the cash guard did it. Three Saturdays a month, the tax collectors were in the marketplaces, appraising our wares, and on the last Saturday, they collected one percent of all we had bought or sold during the month. Nothing had any fixed value. Today, you might haggle half an hour in trading a pint of beans for a goat skin. And next week, if you wanted beans, the chances were more than excellent. that you would have to give for five goat skins for a pint, and the tax collectors took advantage of that. They appraised on the basis of the highest market values for the month.

My father had a few long-haired goats. They were called Montana goats, but he said they were really Angora's, and mother used to make cloth from their fleece. With the cloth, the milk, and the flesh from our goats, we lived very well, having also a small vegetable garden beside our house. but there were some necessities that we must purchase in the marketplace, it being against the law to barter in private, as the tax collectors would then have known nothing about a man's income. After supper one night, father and I went out and milked the goats

and saw that the sheds were secured for the night against the dogs. It seems as though they'd become more numerous and more bold each year. They run in packs now, and there were only individuals when I was a little boy, and it is scarce safe for a grown man to travel in underage. unfrequented locality at night. We are not permitted to have firearms in our possession, nor even bows and arrows, so we cannot exterminate them, and they seem to realize our weakness coming close in among the houses and pens at night. They are large brutes, fearless and powerful.

There's one pack more formidable than the others, which father says appears to carry a strong strain of collie and Airdale blood. The members of this pack are large, cunning, and ferocious, and are becoming a terror to the city. We call them the hellhounds. After we returned to the house with the milk, Jim Thompson and his woman, Molly Sheehan, came over. They live up the river about half a mile on the next farm, and are our best friends. They are the only people that father and mother really trust, so when we are all together alone, we speak our minds very freely. It seemed strange to me, even as a boy, that such big, strong men as father and Jim should be afraid to express their real views to anyone. And though I was born

and reared in an atmosphere of suspicion and terror, I could never quite reconcile myself to the attitude of servility and cowardice, which marked us all. And yet I knew that my father was no coward. He was a fine-looking man, tall and wonderfully muscled, and I have seen him fight with men and with dogs. Once he defended mother against a cash guard, and with his bare hands he killed the armed soldier. He lies on the center of the goat pen now. His rifle, bayonet, and ammunition wrapped in many thicknesses of oil cloth beside him. We left no trace and were never even suspected. But we know where there is a rifle, a bayonet, and ammunition. Jim had had trouble with sewer, the new tax collector, and was very angry. Jim was a big man, and like father, was always smooth-shaven

as were nearly all Americans, as we called those whose people had lived here long before the Great War. The others, the true Calcars, grew no beards. Their ancestors had come from the moon many years before. They'd come in strange ships year after year, but finally one by one their ships had been lost. And as none of them knew how to build others or the engines that operated them, the time came when no more Calcars could come from the moon to Earth. Jim was terribly mad. He said that he couldn't stand it much longer,

that he would rather be dead than live in such an awful world. But I was accustomed to such talk. I had heard it since infancy. Life was a hard thing, just work, work, work, for a scant existence over and above the income tax. No pleasures, few conveniences or comforts, absolutely no luxuries, and worst of all, no hope. It was seldom that anyone smiled, anyone in our class, and the grown-ups never laughed.

As children, we laughed, a little, not much. It is hard to kill the spirit of childhood, but the brotherhood of man had almost done it. Father placed his hand upon Jim's shoulder. We must not weaken, my friend, he said. I often feel the same way. And then he walked quickly across the room to the fireplace, and removed a stone above the rough wooden mantle. Reaching his hand into the aperture behind, he turned toward us.

But cowed and degraded as I have become, he cried. Thank God I still have a spark of manhood left. I have had the strength to defy them as my fathers defied them. I have kept this that has been handed down to me, kept it for my son to hand down to his son. And I have taught him to die for it, as his forefathers died for it. and his eye would die for it gladly. He drew forth a small bundle of fabric,

and holding the upper corners between the fingers of his two hands, he let it unfold before us. An oblong cloth of alternate red and white stripes, with a blue square in one corner, upon which were sown many little white stars. Jim and Molly and Mother rose to their feet, and I saw Mother cast an apprehensive glance toward the doorway. For a moment they stood thus in silence,

looking with wide eyes upon the thing that father held, and then Jim walked slowly toward it, and kneeling took the edge of it in his great, horny fingers, and pressed it to his lips. The candle upon the rough table, sputtering in the spring wind that waved the goat-skin at the window, cast its feeble rays upon them. It is the flag, my son, said father to me.

It is old glory, the flag of your fathers, the flag that made the world a decent place to live in. It is death to possess it. But when I am gone, take it and guard it as our family has guarded it since the regiment that carried it came back from the Argonne. I felt tears filling my eyes. Why I could not have told them. And I turned away to hide them. Turned toward the window and there, beyond the waving goat skin, I saw a face in the outer darkness.

I've always been quick of thought and of action. But I never thought or moved more quickly in my life than I did in the instant, following my discovery of the face in the window. With a single movement, I swept the candle from the table, plunging the room into utter darkness, and leaping to my father's side, I tore the flag from his hands and thrust it back into the aperture above the mantle. The stone lay upon the mantle itself,

nor did it take me but a moment to grope for it and find it in the dark. An instant more, and it was replaced in its niche. So ingrained were apprehension and suspicion in the human mind That the four in the room with me sensed intuitively something of the cause of my act And when I had hunted for the candle, found it, and re-lighted it, They were standing tense and motionless, where I had last seen them. They did not ask me a question, for if they suspicioned correctly, They knew that we must not talk upon the subject.

Father was the first to speak. You were very careless and clumsy, Julian. He said, "'If you wanted the candle, why did you not pick it up carefully "'instead of rushing at it so? "'But that is always your way. "'You are constantly knocking things over.'

"'He raised his voice a trifle as he spoke, "'but it was a lame attempt at deception, "'and he knew it, as did we. "'If the man who owned the face in the dark "'heard his words, he must have known it as well. "'As soon as I had re-lighted the candle, I went into the kitchen and out the back door, and then keeping close in the black shadow of the house,

I crept around toward the front, for I wanted to learn if I could who it was who had looked in upon that scene of high treason. The night was moonless but clear, and I could see quite a distance in every direction, as our house stood in a fair-sized clearing close to the river. Southeast of us, the path wound upward across the approach to an ancient bridge,

long since destroyed by raging mobs or rotted away, I do not know which. And presently I saw the figure of a man silhouetted against the starlit sky as he topped the approach. The man carried a laden sack upon his back. This fact was to some extent reassuring, as it suggested that the eaveschopper was himself upon some illegal mission, and that he could ill afford to be too particular of the actions of others. I have seen many men carrying sacks and bundles at night. I have carried them myself.

It is the only way often in which a man may save enough from the tax collector on which to live and support his family. I did not follow the man, being sure that he was one of our own class, but turned back toward the house where I found the four talking in low whispers, nor did any of us raise his voice again that evening. It must have been three-quarters of an hour later, as Jim and Molly were preparing to leave, that there came a knock upon the door.

which immediately swung open before an invitation to enter could be given. We looked up to see Peter Johansson smiling at us. I never liked Peter. He was a long, lanky man who smiled with his mouth, but never with his eyes. I didn't like the way he used to look at Mother when he thought no one was observing him, nor as habit of changing women every year or two. That was too much like the cowcars. I always felt toward Peter as I had as a child when,

barefooted, I stepped unknowingly upon a snake in the deep grass. Father greeted the newcomer with a pleasant, Welcome, Brother Johansson. But Jim only nodded his head and scowled, for Peter had a habit of looking at Molly as he did at Mother, and both women were beautiful. I think I never saw a more beautiful woman than my mother, and as I grew older and learned more of men in the world,

I marveled that Father had been able to keep her. And, too, I understood why she never went abroad, but stayed always closely about the house and farm. I never knew her to go to the marketplace, as did most of the other women. But I was twenty now, and worldly wise, and so I knew what I had not known as a little child. What brings you out so late, brother, Johansson? I asked. We always used the prescribed brother to those of whom we were not sure.

I hated the word. To me a brother meant an enemy as it did to all our class, and I guess to every class, even the calcars. I followed a stray pig, replied Peter to my question. He went in that direction, and he waved a hand toward the marketplace. As he did so, something tumbled from beneath his coat, something that his arm had held there. It was an empty sack.

Immediately I knew who it was, who owned the face in the dark beyond our goat skin hanging. Peter snatched the sack from the floor in ill-conceived confusion, and then I saw the expression of his cunning face change as he held it toward father. "'Is this yours, brother, Julian?' he asked. "'I found it just before your door and thought that I would stop and ask.' "'No,' said I, not waiting for father to speak.

"'It is not ours. It must belong to the man I saw carrying it full, a short time since. He went by the path beside the old bridge.' I looked straight into Peter's eyes. He flushed and then went white. I did not see him, he said presently. But if the sack is not yours, I will keep it. At least it is not high treason to have it in my possession. And then without another word, he turned and left the house.

We all knew then that Peter had seen the episode of The Flag. Father said that we need not fear, that Peter was all right. But Jim thought differently and so did Molly and mother. I agreed with them. I did not like Peter. Jim and Molly went home shortly after Peter left, and we prepared for bed. End of Chapter 1.

Chapter 2 Of the Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker. Chapter 2. The Hellhounds. I had just slipped off my tunic when I heard the baying of the hellhounds close by. I thought they might be getting into the goat-pin, so I waited a moment, listening. And then I heard a scream, the scream of a woman in terror.

It sounded down by the river near the goat-pins, and mingled with it was the vicious growling and barking of the hell-hounds. I did not wait to listen longer, but seized my knife and along staff. I ran out the front door, which was closest, and turned toward the pins in the direction of the hell-hounds' deep growlings, and the screams of the woman, which were repeated twice. As I neared the pins in my eyes became accustomed to the outer darkness, I made out what appeared to be a human figure resting partially upon the top of one of the sheds that formed a portion of the pin wall. The legs and lower body dangled over the edge of the roof,

and I could see three or four hellhounds leaping for it, while another, that had evidently gotten a hold, was hanging to one leg and attempting to drag the figure down. As I ran forward I shouted at the beasts, and those that were leaping for the figure stopped and turned toward me. I knew something of the temper of these animals, and that I might expect them to charge, for they were quite fearless of man ordinarily,

but I ran forward toward them so swiftly and with such determination that they turned, growling, and ran off before I reached them, but not far. The one that had hold of the figure succeeded in dragging it to earth just before I reached them, and then it discovered me in turn, standing over its prey, with wide jaws and terrific fangs menacing me. It was a huge beast, almost as large as a full-grown goat,

and easily a match for several men as poorly armed as I. Under ordinary circumstances I should have given it plenty of room, but what was I to do when the life of a woman was at stake? I am an American, not a calcare, those swine would throw a woman to the hellhounds to save their own skins, and I had been brought up to Revere Woman in a work, that considered her on par with the cow, the nanny, and the sow, only less valuable, since the latter were not the common property of the state. I knew then that death stood very near as I faced

that frightful beast, and from the corner of an eye I could see its mates creeping closer. There was no time to think even, and so I rushed in upon the hellhounds with my staff and blade. As I did so, I saw the wide and terrified eyes of a young girl looking up at me from beneath the beast of prey. I had not thought to desert her to her fate before, but after that single glance I could not have done so had a thousand deaths confronted me. As I was almost upon the beast it sprang from my throat, rising high upon its hind feet and leaping straight as an arrow. My staff was useless, and so I dropped it, meeting the charge with my knife in a bare hand. By luck the fingers of my left hand found the creature's throat at the first clutch, but the impact of his body

against mine hurled me to the ground beneath him, and there, growling and struggling, he sought to close those snapping fangs upon me. Holding his jaws at arm's length, I struck at his breast with my blade, nor did I miss him once. The pain of the wounds turned him crazy, and yet, to my utter surprise, I found I still could hold him, and not that alone, but that I could also struggle to my knees, and then to my feet, still holding him at arm's length in my left hand. I had always known that I was muscular, but until that moment I had never dreamed of the great strength that nature had given me, for never before had I had occasion to exert the full measure of my powerful views. It was like a revelation from above, and of a sudden I found myself smiling,

and in the instant a miracle occurred. All fear of these hideous beasts dissolved from my brain like thin air. And with it, fear of man as well. I, who had been brought out of a womb of fear into a world of terror, who had been suckled and nurtured upon apprehension and timidity, I, Julian the ninth, at the age of twenty years, became in the fraction of a second, utterly fearless of man or beast. It was the knowledge of my great power that did it, that, and perhaps those two liquid eyes that I knew to be watching me. The other hounds were closing in upon me when the creature in my grasp went suddenly limp. My blade must have found its heart.

And then the others charged, and I saw the girl upon her feet beside me, my staff and her hands, ready to battle with them. To the roof, I shouted to her. But she did not heed. Instead she stood her ground, striking a vicious blow at the leader as he came within range. Swinging the dead beast above my head, I hurled the carcass at the others, so that they scattered and retreated again. And then I turned to the girl, and without more parley, lifted her in my arms and tossed her lightly to the roof of the goat-shed.

I could easily have followed to her side, and safety, had not something filled my brain with an effect similar to that which I imagine must be produced by the vile concoction, brewed by the calcars, in which they drink to excess, while it would mean imprisonment for us to be apprehended with it in our possession. At least I know that I felt a sudden exhilaration, a strange, desire to accomplish wonders before the eyes of this stranger. And so I turned upon the four remaining hellhounds, who had now bunched to renew the attack, and without waiting for them, I rushed toward them. They did not flee, but stood their ground,

growling hideously, their hair bristling upon their necks and along their spines. Their great fangs, bared and slavering. But among them I tore, and by the very impetuosity of my attack, I overthrew them. The first sprang to meet me, and him I seized by the neck and clamping his body between my knees, I twisted his head entirely around, until I heard the vertebrae snap. The other three were upon me then, leaping and tearing, but I felt no fear. One by one I took them in my mighty hands, and lifting them high above my head, hurled them violently from me.

Two only of the hellhounds returned to the attack, and these I vanquished with my bare hands, disdaining to use my blade upon such carrion. It was then that I saw a man running toward me from up the river, and another from our house. The first was Jim, who had heard the commotion, and the girls' screams, and the other was my father. Both had seen the last part of the battle, and neither could believe that it was I, Julian, who had done this thing.

Father was very proud of me, and Jim was, too, for he had always said that having no son of his own, father must share me with him. And then I turned toward the girl who had slipped from the roof and was approaching us. She moved with the same graceful dignity that was mothers, not at all like the clumsy clods that belonged to the calcars. And she came straight to me and laid a hand upon my arm. Thank you, she said.

And God bless you, only a very brave and powerful man could have done what you have done. And then all of a sudden I did not feel brave at all, but very weak and silly, for all I could do was finger my blade and look at the ground. It was father who spoke, and the interruption helped to dispel my embarrassment. "'Who are you?' he asked. "'And from where do you come?

It is strange to find a young woman wandering about alone at night, but stranger still to hear one who dares invoke the forbidden deity.' I had not realized until then that she had used his, name, but when I did recall it I could not but glance apprehensively about to see if any others might be around who could have heard. Father and Jim I knew to be safe, for there was a common tie between our families that lay in the secret religious rites we held once each month. Since that hideous day that had befallen even before my father's birth, that day which

none dared mention above a whisper, when the clergy of every denomination to the last man had been murdered by order of the 24. It had been a capital crime to worship God in any form whatsoever. We took the girl to the house, and when my mother saw her, and how young and beautiful she was, and took her in her arms, the child broke down and sobbed and clung to mother, nor could either speak for some time. In the light of the candle I saw that the stranger was of wondrous beauty.

I have said that my mother was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, seen, and such is the truth. But this girl who had come so suddenly among us was the most beautiful girl. She was about nineteen, delicately molded and yet without weakness. There were strength and vitality apparent in every move she made as well as in the expression of her face, her gestures, and her manner of speech. She was girlish, and at the same time filled one with an impression of great reserve strength of mind and character. She was very brown, show showing exposure to the sun, yet her skin was clear, almost translucent. Her garb was similar to mine, the common garmature of people of our class, both men and women.

She wore the tunic and breeches and boots, just as Mother and Molly and the rest of us did. But somehow there was a difference. I had never before realized what a really beautiful costume it was. The band about her forehead was wider than was generally worn, and upon it were sewn numerous tiny shells, set close together and forming a pattern. It was their only attempt at ornamentation. But even so, it was quite noticeable in a world

where women strove to make themselves plain rather than beautiful, some going even so far as to permanently disfigure their faces and those of their female offspring, while others, many, many others, killed the latter in infancy. Molly had done so with two. No wonder that grown-ups never laughed and seldom smiled, When the girl had quieted her sobs on mother's breast, Father renewed his questioning,

but Mother said to wait until morning, that the girl was tired and unstrung and needed sleep, and then came the question of where she was to sleep. Father said that he would sleep in the living room with me and that the stranger could sleep with Mother. But Jim suggested that she come home with him, as he and Molly had three rooms, as did we, and no one to occupy his living room,

and so it was arranged, although I would rather have had her remain with us. At first she rather shrank from going until mother told her that Jim and Molly were good, kind-hearted people, and that she would be as safe with them as with her own father and mother. At mention of her parents, the tears came to her eyes, and she turned impulsively toward my mother and kissed her,

after which she told Jim that she was ready to accompany him. She started to say goodbye to me and to think me again, but having found my tongue at last, her that I would go with them as far as Jim's house. This appeared to please her, and so we set forth. Jim walked ahead, and I followed with the girl. And on the way, I discovered a very strange thing. Father had shown me a piece of iron once that pulled smaller bits of iron to it. He said that it was a magnet. This slender, stranger girl was certainly no piece of iron, nor was I a smaller bit of anything. But nevertheless, I could not keep away from her. I cannot explain.

it. However wide the way was, I was always drawn over close to her so that our arms touched, and once our hands swung together in the strangest and most delicious thrill ran through me that I had ever experienced. I used to think that Jim's house was a long way from ours when I had to carry things over there as a boy, but that night it was far too close, just a step or two, and we were there. Molly heard us coming and was at the door full. of questionings, and when she saw the girl and heard a part of our story, she reached out, and took the girl to her bosom, just as mother had. Before they took her in, the stranger turned and held out her hand to me. Good night, she said, and thank you again. And once more, may God,

our father, bless, and preserve you. And I heard Molly murmur, The saints be praised. And then I turned homeward, treading on air. Chapter 3 Of the Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burrows This Libervox recording is in the public domain Read by Ben Tucker Chapter 3 Brother General Ortis

The next day I set out as usual to peddle goat's milk We were permitted to trade And perishable things on other than market days Though we had to make a strict accounting for all such bartering I usually left Molly until the last as Jim had a deep cold well on his place, where I'd like to quench my thirst after my morning trip. But today, Molly got her milk fresh and first and early, about a half an hour earlier than I was wont to start out.

When I knocked and she had bade me enter and saw who it was, she looked surprised at first for just an instant, and then a strange expression came into her eyes, half amusement, half pity, and she rose and went into the kitchen for the milk jar. I saw her wipe the corners of her eyes with the back of one, finger, but I did not understand why. Not then. The stranger girl had been in the kitchen, helping Molly, and the latter must have told her I was there, for she came right in and greeted me.

It was the first good look I had of her, for candlelight is not brilliant at best. If I had been enthralled the evening before, there was no word in my limited vocabulary to express the effect she had on me by daylight. She... But it is useless. I cannot describe her. It took Molly a long time to find the milk jar, bless her, though it seemed short enough to me, and while she was finding it the stranger girl and I were getting acquainted. First, she asked after her father and mother, and then she asked our names. When I told her mind, she repeated it several times to herself in a low voice. "'Julian the ninth,' she said.

"'Julian the ninth,' and then she smiled up at me. "'It is a nice name. I like it.' "'And what is you? your name, I asked. Hwana, she said, and she pronounced it, Hwana. Hanna St. John. I am glad, I said, that you like my name,

but I like yours better. It was a very foolish speech, and it made me feel silly, but she did not seem to think it was foolish, or if she did, she was too nice to let me know it. I have known many girls, but mostly they were homely and stupid. The pretty girls were seldom allowed in the marketplace. that is the pretty girls of our class. The calcars permitted their girls to go abroad,

for they did not care who got them, as long as someone got them. But American fathers and mothers would rather slay their girls than send them to the marketplace, and the former often was done. The calcar girls, even those born of American mothers, were coarse and brutal in appearance, low-browed, vulgar, bovine.

No stock can be improved or even kept to its normal plain unless high-grade males are used. This girl was so entirely different from any other that I had ever seen, that I marveled that such a glorious creature could exist. I wanted to know all about her. It seemed to me that in some way I'd been robbed of my right for many years that she should have lived and breathed and talked and gone her way without my ever knowing it or her. I wanted to make up for lost time, and so I asked her many questions.

She told me that she had been born and raised in the Tevos just west of Chicago, which extended along the Displain River, and embraced a considerable area of unpopulated country and scattered farms. My father's home is in a district called Oat Park, she said, and our house was one of the few that remained from ancient times. It was of solid concrete and stood upon the corner of two roads. Once it must have been a very beautiful place, and even time and war have been unable entirely to erase its charm. Three great poplar trees rose to the north of it, beside the ruins of what my father said was once a place where motor cars were kept by the long-dead owner.

To the south of the house were many roses, growing wild and luxuriant, while the concrete walls from which the plaster had fallen in great patches were almost entirely concealed by the trees. the clinging ivy that reached to the very eaves. It was my home, and so I loved it, but now it is lost to me forever. The cash guard, and the tax collector came seldom. We were too far from the station and the marketplace, which lay southwest of us on Salt Creek, but recently the new Gemadar Jarath appointed another commandant and a new tax collector. They did not like the station

at Salt Creek, and so they sought for a better location, and after inspecting the the district, they chose Oak Park, and my father's home being the most comfortable and substantial. They ordered him to sell it to the 24. You know what that means. They appraised it at a high figure. $50,000 it was, and paid him in paper money. There was nothing to do, and so we prepared to move. Whenever they had come to look at the house, my mother had hidden me in a little cubbyhole on the landing between the second and third floors, placing a pile of rubbish in front of me. But the day that we were leaving to take a place on the banks of the Desplanes, where Father thought that we might live without being disturbed,

the new Commandant came unexpectedly and saw me. How old is the girl? He asked my mother. Fifteen, she replied sullenly. You lie, you sow! He cried angrily. She is 18 if she is a day. Father was standing there beside us,

and when the Commandant spoke as he did, did to mother, I saw father go very white, and then without a word he hurled himself upon the swine, and before the cash guard who accompanied him could prevent, father had almost killed the commandant with his bare hands. You know what happened. I do not need to tell you. That killed my father before my eyes. Then the commandant gave my mother to one of his cash guard.

But she snatched his bayonet from his belt and ran it through her heart before they could prevent. I tried to follow her example, but they seized me. I was carried to my own bedroom on the second floor of my father's house and locked there. The commandant said that he would come and see me in the evening and that everything would be all right with me. I knew what he meant, and I made up my mind that he would find me dead. My heart was breaking for the loss of my father and mother, and yet the desire to live was strong within me. I did not want to die. Something urged me to live, and in addition was the teaching of my father's

mother. They were both from Quakerstock and very religious. They educated me to fear God, and to do no wrong by thought or violence to another. And yet, I had seen my father attempt to kill a man, and I had seen my mother slay herself. My world was all upset. I was almost crazed by grief and fear and uncertainty as to what was the right thing for me to do. And then, darkness came, and I heard someone ascending the stairway. The windows of the second story are too far from the ground for one to risk a leap, but the ivy is old and strong. The commandant was not sufficiently familiar with the place to have taken the ivy into consideration,

and before the footsteps reached my door, I had swung out of the window, and clinging to the ivy made my way to the ground, down the rough and strong old stem. That was three days ago. I hid and wandered. I did not know in what direction I went. Once an old woman took me in overnight, and fed me and gave me food to carry for the next day. I think that I must have been almost mad,

for mostly the beginnings of the past three days are only indistinct and jumbled fragments of memory in my mind. And then the hell-hounds! Oh, how frightened I was! And then, you? I don't know what there was about the way she said it, but it seemed to me as though it meant a great deal more than she knew herself, almost like a prayer of Thanksgiving. It was,

that she had at last found a safe haven of refuge, safe and permanent. Anyway, I liked the idea. And then Molly came in, and as I was leaving, she asked me if I would come that evening. And Hwana cried, oh, yes, do! And I said that I would. When I had finished delivering the goat's milk, I started for home, and on the way I met old Samuel. the Jew. He made his living, and a scant one it was, by tanning hides. He was a most excellent tanner. But as nearly everyone else knew how to tan, there were not many customers. But some of the calcars used to bring him hides to tan. They knew nothing of how to do any useful thing, for they were descended from a long line of the most ignorant and illiterate people in the moon.

In the moment they obtained a little power, they would not even work at what small trades their fathers once had learned, so that after a generation or two they were able to live only off the labor of others. They created nothing, they produced nothing, they became the most burdensome class of parasites the world has ever endured. The rich non-producers of olden times were a blessing to the world by comparison with these, for the former at least had intelligence and imagination. They could direct others, and they could transmit to their offspring the qualities of mind that are essential to any culture, progress, or happiness that the world ever may hope to attain. So the Calcars patronized Samuels for their tanned hides, and if they had paid him for them,

the old Jew would have waxed rich, but they either did not pay him at all, or else mostly in paper money, that did not even burn well, as Samuels used to say. "'Good morning, Julian,' he called as we met. "'I shall be needing some hides soon, for the new commander. of the cash guard has heard of old Samuels and has sent for me, and ordered five hides tanned the finest that can be. Have you seen this Ortis, Julian? He lowered his voice. I shook my head negatively. Heaven, help us, whispered the old man. Heaven, help us. Is he as bad as that, Moses? I asked. The old man wrung his hands. Bad times are ahead, my son.

He said, Old Samuels knows his kind. He is not lazy like the last one, and he is more cruel and more lustful. What about the hides? I've not paid you for the last. They paid me in paper money. But that I would not offer to a friend in payment for last year's bird's nest. Maybe that I shall not be able to pay you for these new hides for a long time.

Depends upon how Ortax pays me. Sometimes they are liberal, as they can afford to be with the property of others. But if he is a half-breed as I hear he is, he will hate a Jew, and I shall get nothing. However, if he is pure calcars, it may be different. The pure calcars do not hate a Jew, more than they hate other earthmen. So there is one Jew who hates a calcar. That night we had our first introduction to Ortis. He came in person, but I will tell you how it all happened.

After supper I went over to gyms, Hwana was standing in the little doorway as I came up the path. She looked rested now and almost happy. The hunted expression had left her eyes, and she smiled as I approached. It was almost dusk, for the spring evenings were still short, but the air was balmy and so we stood outside talking. I recited the little gossip of our district that I had picked up during my days. work. The 24 had raised the local tax on farm products. Andrew Wright's woman had given birth to

twins a boy and a girl, but the girl had died. No need of comment here as most girl babies die. Sour had said that he would tax this district until we all died of starvation. Pleasant fellow sewer. One of the cash guard had taken Nellie Levy. Hoffmeyer had said that next winter we would have to pay more for coal. Dennis Corrigan had been sent to the mines for years because he had been caught trading at night. It was all alike, this gossip of ours, all sordid or sad or tragic. But then life was a tragedy with us. After a while I took Juana over to our house to see my mother. She liked the house very much. My father's father built it with his own hands. It is constructed of stone taken from the ruins of the old city. Stone and brick.

Father says that he thinks the bricks are from an old pavement as we still see patches. of these ancient bricks in various localities. Nearly all our houses are of this construction for timber scarce. The foundation and the walls above the ground for about three feet are of rough stones of various sizes, and above this are the bricks. The stones are laid so that some project farther than others, and the effect is odd and rather nice. The eaves are low and overhanging, and the roof is thatched.

It is a nice house, and mother keeps it scrupulously clean, and meticulously neat within. We had been talking for perhaps an hour, sitting in our living room, father, mother, Hwana, and I, when the door was suddenly thrust open without warning, and we looked up to see a man in the uniform of a cash guard confronting us. Behind him were others. We all rose and stood in silence.

Two entered, and took posts on either side of the doorway, and then a third came in, a tall, dark man, in the uniform of a commander, and we knew at once that it was Orte's. At his heels were six more. Ortis looked at each of us, and then singling out father, he said, You are Brother Julian the eighth, father nodded. Ortis eyed him for a moment,

and then his gaze wandered to Mother and Hwana, and I saw a new expression lessened the fierce scowl that had clouded his face from the moment of his entry. He was a large man, his nose was thin and rather fine, his eyes cold, gray and piercing. He was very different from the fat swine that had preceded him. Very different, and more dangerous. Even I could see that.

I could see a thin, cruel upper lip, and a full and sensuous lower. If the other had been a pig, this one was a wolf, and he had the nervous restlessness of the wolf, and the vitality to carry out any wolfish designs his crafty brain might entertain. So you are brother Julian the ear. He repeated, I do not have good reports of you. I have come for

two reasons tonight. One is to warn you that the cash guard is commanded by a different sort of man from him who I relieved. I will stand no trifling and no treason. There must be unquestioned loyalty to the Jemadar at Washington.

Every national and local law will be enforced. Troublemakers and traitors will get short shrift. A manifesto will be read in each marketplace Saturday, a manifesto that I have just received from Washington. Our great Jemadar has conferred greater powers upon the commanders of the cash guard. You will come to me with all your grievances. Where Justice miscarries, I shall be the court of last resort.

The judgment of any court may be appealed to me. On the other hand, let wrongdoers beware, as under the new law any cause may be tried before a summary military court over which the commander of the cash guard must preside. And, continued Orteus, I have come for another reason, a reason that looks bad for you, Brother Julian, but we shall see what we shall see. And turning to the men behind him, he issued a curt command. Search the place! That was all.

But I saw in memory another man standing in this same living room, a man from beneath whose coat fell an empty sack when he raised an arm. For an hour they searched that little three-room house. For an hour they tumbled our few belongings over and over. But mostly they searched the living room, and especially about the fireplace, did they hunt for a hidden nook. A dozen times my heart stood still as I saw them feeling of the stones above the mantle. We all knew what they sought, all but Juana,

and we knew what it would mean if they found it. Death for father, and for me too, perhaps, and worse for. for mother and the girl, and to think that Johansen had done this awful thing to curry favor for himself with the new commander. I knew it was he. I knew it as surely as though Ortis had told me. To curry favor with the commander, I thought that was the reason then. God had I but known his real reason. Well, they searched for an hour and found nothing, but I knew that Ortis was not satisfied that the thing he sought was not there. And toward the end of the search, I could see that he was losing patience. He took direct charge at last, and then when they had no better success under his direction, he became very angry.

Yankee swine, he cried suddenly turning upon father. You will find that you cannot fool a descendant of the great Germandar Orthis. As you have fooled the others. Not for long. I have a nose for traitors. I can smell yank farther than most men can see one. Take a warning. Take a warning to your kind. it will be death or the minds for every traitor in the Tevos.

He stood then in silence for a moment, glaring at Father, and then his gaze moved to Hwana, where she stood just behind my shoulder at the far side of the room. Who are you, girl? he demanded. Where do you live and what do you that adds to the prosperity of the community? Adds to the prosperity of the community. It was a phrase often on their lips, and it was always directed at us.

A meaningless phrase, as there was no prosperity. We supported the Calcars, and that was their idea of prosperity. I suppose ours was to get barely sufficient to sustain life and strength, to enable us to continue slaving for them. I live with Molly Sheehan, replied Hwana, and help her care for the chickens and the little pigs. Also I help with the housework. Hmm, ejaculated Ortis.

Housework! That is good. I shall be neat. someone to keep my quarters tidy. How about it, my girl? It will be easy work, and I will pay you well. No pigs or chickens to slay for, eh? But I love the little pigs and chickens. I like to care for them, she pleaded, and I am happy with Molly. I do not wish to change. Do not wish to change, eh? he mimicked her. She had drawn farther behind me now as though for protection and closer. I could feel her body touching mine.

Molly can doubtless take care of her own pigs and chickens without help. If she has so many she cannot do it alone, then she has too many, and we will see why it is that she is more prosperous than the rest of us. Probably she should pay a larger income tax. We shall see. Oh no, cried Juana, frightened now on Molly's account. Please, she has only a few, scarcely enough that she and her man may live after the taxes are paid.

Then she does not need you to help her, said Ortis with finalis. a nasty sneer upon his lip. You will come and work for me, girl. And then Hwana surprised me. She surprised us all, and particularly Ortus. Before she had been rather pleading, and seemingly a little frightened. But now she drew herself to her full height

and with her chin and air looked Ortis straight in the eye. I will not come, she said haughtily. I do not wish to. That was all. All. Ortis looked surprised. His soldiers, shocked. For a moment, no one spoke. I glanced at Mother. She was not trembling as I had expected. Her head was up, too, and she was openly looking her scorn of the man. Father stood as he usually did before them, with his head bowed. But I saw that he was watching Ortis out of the corners of his eyes, and that his fingers were moving as might the fingers of hands fixed upon a hated throat. "'You will come,' said Ortesse, a little red in the face now at this defiance. "'There are ways!'

And he looked straight at me, and then he turned upon his heel, and followed by his cash guard left the house. End of Chapter 3. Chapter 4 of The Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burroughs. The Slibervox recording is in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker. Chapter 4 A Fight on Market Day When the door had closed upon them,

Hwana buried her face in her hands. Oh, what misery I bring everywhere, she sobbed. To my father and mother I brought death, and now to you all, and to Jim and Molly, I'm bringing ruin, perhaps death also. But it shall not be... You shall not suffer for me. He looked straight at you, Julian,

when he made his threat. What could he mean to do? you have done nothing, but you need not fear. I know how I may undo the harm I have so innocently done. We tried to assure her that we did not care, that we would protect her as best we could, and that she must not feel that she had brought any greater burden upon us than we already carried.

But she only shook her head and at last asked me to take her home to Mollies. She was very quiet all the way back, though I did my best to cheer her up. "'He cannot make you work for him,' I insisted. "'Even the twenty-four, rotten as it is, would never dare enforce such an order. "'We are not yet entirely slaves.' "'But I am afraid that he will find a way,' she replied. "'Through you, my friend, I saw him look at you, and it was a very ugly look.'

"'I do not fear,' I said. "'I fear for you. "'No, it shall not be,' she spoke with such vehement finality. that she almost startled me, and then she bade me good night and went into Molly's house and closed the door. All the way back home I was much worried about her, for I did not like to see her unhappy. As I approached the house, I saw that the candle was still burning in the living room. I'd left so hurriedly that I had given it no thought, and as I came closer I saw something else, too. I was walking very slowly, and in the soft dust of the pathway, my soft boot

made no sound, or I might not have seen what I did see, two figures, close in the shadow of the wall, peering through one of our little windows into the living room. I crept stealthily forward until I was close enough to see that one was in the uniform of a cash guard, while the other was clothed as are those of my class, and in the latter I recognized the stoop-shouldered lanky figure of Peter Johansson. I was not at all surprised at this confirmation of my suspicions. I knew what they were there for, hoping to learn the secret hiding place of the flag, but I also knew that unless they already knew it,

there was no danger of their discovering it from the outside, since the flag had been removed from its hiding place. So I hid and watched them for a while, and then circled the house and entered from the front as though I did not know they were there, for it would never do to let them know that they had been discovered. taking off my clothes i went to bed after putting out the candle i do not know how long they remained it was enough to know that we were being watched and though it was not pleasant i was glad that we were forewarned in the morning i told father and mother what i had seen mother sighed and shook her head "'It is coming,' she said. "'I always knew that sooner or later it would come.

"'One by one they get us. "'Now it is our turn.' "'It was market day, and I went in with a few weathers, "'some hides and cheese. "'Father did not come along. "'In fact, I advised him not to, "'as Sewer would be there and also Hoffmeyer. "'One cheese I took as tribute to sewer.

"'God how I hated to do it! but both mother and father thought it best to propitiate the fellow, and I suppose they were right. A lifetime of suffering does not incline one to seek further trouble. The marketplace was full, for I was a little late. There were many cash guards and evidence, more than usual. It was a warm day, the first really warm day we had had, and a number of men were sitting beneath a canopy at one side of the marketplace in front of Hoffmeyer's office. As I approached, I saw that Orta's,

was there, as well as Thav the Coal Baron, and Hofmeier, of course, with several others, including some Calcar women and children. I recognized Thob's women, a renegade yank who had gone to him willingly, and their little child, a girl of about six. The latter was playing in the dust in front of the canopy some hundred feet from the group, and I had scarcely recognized her when I saw that which made my heart almost stopped beating for an instant. Two men were driving a small bunch of cattle into the marketplace upon the other side of the canopy, when suddenly I saw one of the creatures, a great bull, break away from the herd, and with lowered head charged toward the tiny figure playing, unconscious of danger in the dust. The men tried to head the beast off, but their efforts were

futile. Those under the canopy saw the child's danger at the same time that I did, and they rose and cried aloud in mourning. Thab's woman shrieked, and Ortis yelled lustily for the cash guard, but none hastened in the path of the infuriated beast to the rescue of the child. I was the closest to her, and the moment that I saw her danger I started forward, but even as I ran there passed through my brain some terrible thoughts.

She is Calcar. She is the spawn of the beast Thav, and of the woman who turned traitor to her kind to win ease and comfort and safety. Many a little life has been snuffed out because of her father in his class. Would they save a sister or a daughter of mine? I thought all these things as I ran,

but I did not stop running. Something within impelled me to her aid. It must have been simply that she was a little child, and I the descendant of American gentlemen. No, I kept right on in the face of the fact that my sense of justice cried out that I let the child die. I reached her just a moment before the bull did, and when he saw me there between him and the child he stopped,

and with his head down he pawed the earth, throwing clouds of dust about, and bellowed, and then he came for me. But I met him halfway, determined to hold him off until the child escaped, if it were humanly possible for me to do so. He was a huge beast, and quite evidently a vicious one, which possibly explained the reason for bringing him to market. And altogether it seemed to me that he would make short work of me, but I meant to die fighting. I called to the little girl to run, and then the bull and I came together. I seized his horns as he attempted to toss me, and I exerted all the strength of him.

my young body. I had thought that I had let the hell-helms feel it all that other night, but now I knew that I had yet more in reserve, for to my astonishment I held that great beast, and slowly, very slowly, I commenced to twist his head to the left. He struggled and fought and bellowed. I could feel the muscles of my back and arms and legs hardening to the strain that was put upon them. But almost from the first instant I knew that I was master. The cash guards were coming now, on the run, and I could hear Ortis shouting to them to shoot the bull. But before they reached me, I gave the animal a final mighty wrench so that he went down first upon one knee, and then over on his side. And there I'd held him until a sergeant came and put a bullet through his head.

When he was quite dead, Ortis and Thav and the others approached. I saw them coming as I was returning to my weathers, my skins, and my cheese. Ortus called to me, and I turned and stood looking at him, as I had no mind to have any business with any of them that I could avoid. Come here, my man, he called. I moved sullenly toward him a few paces and stopped again. What do you want of me? I asked. Who are you? He was eyeing me closely now. I never saw such strength in any man. You should be in the cash guard. How would you like that? "'I would not like it,' I replied. "'It was about then, I guess, that he recognized me, for his eyes hardened.

"'No,' he said, "'we do not want, such as you among loyal men.' He turned upon his heel, but immediately willed toward me again. "'See to it, young man,' he snapped, "'that you use that strength of yours wisely and in good causes.' "'I shall use it wisely. I replied, and in the best of causes. I think Thav's woman had intended to thank me for saving her child, and perhaps Thav had too,

for they had both come toward me, but when they saw Orte's evident hostility toward me, they turned away, for which I was thankful. I saw Seur looking on with a sneer on his lips, and Hofmeier eyeing me with that cunning expression of his. I gathered up my produce, and proceeded to that part of the, the marketplace where we habitually showed that which we had to sell, only to find that a man named Vombulan was there ahead of me. Now there is an unwritten law that each family has its own place in the market. I was the third generation of Julian's who had brought produce to the spot, formerly horses mostly, for we were a family of horsemen, but more recently goats since the government had taken

over the horse industry. Though father and I still broke horses occasionally for the 24, we did not own or raise them anymore. Von Bielan had had a little pin in a far corner, where trade was not so brisk as it usually was in our section, and I could not understand what he was doing in hours, where he had three or four scrub pigs and a few sacks of grain. Approaching, I asked him why he was there. This is my pen now, he said. Tax collector sore told me to use it. You will get out of it, I replied. You know that it is ours. Everyone in the TiVos knows that it is, and has been for many years. My grandfather built it, and my family have kept it in repair. You will get out. I will not get out, he replied truculently. He was a very large man,

and when he was angry, he looked quite fierce as he had. Large mustaches, which he brushed upward on either side of his nose, like the tusks of one of his boars. You will get out or be thrown out, I told him. But he put his hand on the gate. and attempted to bar my entrance. Knowing him to be heavy-minded and stupid, I thought to take him by surprise. Nor did I fail, as, with a hand upon the topmost rail, I vaulted the gate full in his face and letting my knees strike his chest.

I sent him tumbling backward into the filth of his swine. So hard I struck him that he turned a complete back somersault, and as he scrambled to his feet, his lips foul with oaths, I saw murder in his eye, and how he charged me. It was for all the world like the charge of the great bull I had just vanquished, except that I think von Bieland was angrier than the bull and not so good looking. His great fists were flailing about in a most terrifying manner, and his mouth was open just as though he intended eating me alive.

But for some reason I felt no fear. In fact, I had to smile to see his face and his fierce mustache smeared with soft hog dung. I parried his first wild blows and then stepping in close I struck him lightly in the face. I am sure I did not strike him hard, for I did not mean to. I wanted to play with him, but the result was as astonishing to me as it must have been to him, though not so painful. He rebounded from my fist fully three feet, and then went over on his back again, spitting blood and teeth from his mouth. And then I picked him up by the scruff of his neck and the seat of his breeches, and lifting him high above my head, I hurled him out of the pen into the marketplace, where for the first time I saw a large, crowd of interested spectators.

Von Bieland was not a popular character in the Tevos, and many were the broad smiles I saw in the faces of those of my class. But there were others who did not smile. They were calcars and half-breeds. I saw all this in a single glance, and then I returned to my work, for I was not through. Von Mielan lay where he had alighted, and after him, and onto him, one by one, I threw his sacks of grain, and his scrub pigs. and then I opened the gate and started to bring in my own produce and livestock.

As I did so, I almost ran into Sore, standing there eyeing me with a most malignant expression upon his face. What does this mean? He fairly screamed at me. It means, I replied, that no one can steal the place of a Julian as easily as von Bieland thought. He did not steal it, yelled Soar. I gave it to him. Get out. It is his. It is not yours to give. I replied, I know my rights, and no man shall take them from me without a fight.

Do you understand me? And then I brushed by him without another glance and drove my weathers into the pin. As I did so, I saw that no one was smiling anymore. My friends looked very glum and very frightened. But a man came up from my right and stood by my side, facing sore, and when I turned my eyes in his direction, I saw that it was Jim. Then I realized how serious my act must have seemed, and I was sorry that Jim had come and thus silently announced that he stood with me in what I had done.

No others came, although there were many who hated the cowcars fully as much as we. Seward was furious, but he could not stop me. Only the twenty-four could take the pen away from me. He called me names and threatened me, but I noticed that he waited until he had walked a short distance away before he did so. It was as food to a starving man to know that even one of our oppressors feared me. So far, this had been the happiest day of my life. I hurriedly got the goats into the pen, and then, with one of the cheeses in my hand, I called to soar.

He turned to see what I wanted, showing his teeth like a rat at bay. You told my father to bring you a present. I yelled at the top of my lungs, so that all about in every direction heard and turned toward us. Here it is! I cried. Here is your bribe! and I hurled the cheese with all my strengths full in his face. He went down like a felled ox, and the people scattered like frightened rabbits.

Then I went back into the pen and started to open and arrange my hides across the fence, so that they might be inspected by prospective purchasers. Jim, whose pen was next to ours, stood looking across the fence at me for several minutes. At last he spoke. You have done a very rash thing, Julian, he said, and then, I envy you.

End of Chapter 4. Chapter 5 of The Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burrows. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker. Chapter 5. The Court Marshal. That afternoon I saw a small detachment of the cash guard crossing the marketplace. They came directly toward my pen and stopped before it. The sergeant in charge addressed me.

"'You are Brother Julian the Ninth,' he asked. "'I am Julian the Ninth,' I replied. "'You had better be Brother Julian the Ninth when you are addressed by Brother General Ortus.' He snapped back. "'You are under arrest. Come with me.' "'What for?' I asked. "'Brother Ortis will tell you if you do not know. "'You are to be taken to him.'

"'So it had come, and it had come quickly. "'I felt sorry for Mother, but in a way I was glad.' If only there had been no such person in the world as Hwana St. John, I should have been almost happy, for I knew mother and father would come soon, and, as she had always taught me, we would be reunited in a happy world on the other side, a world in which there were no calcars or taxes. But then there was a Hwana St. John, and I was very sure of this world, while not quite so sure of the other which I had never seen. There seemed no particular reason for refusing to accompany the cash guard. They would simply have killed me with their bullets,

and if I went I might have an opportunity to wipe out some more important swine than they before I was killed. If, they intended killing me, one never knows what they will do, other than that it will be the wrong thing. Well, they took me to the headquarters of the Tivos, way down on the shore of the lake. But as they took me in a large wagon drawn by horses, It was not a tiresome trip. And as I was not worrying, I rather enjoyed it. We passed through many marketplaces, for numerous districts lie between hours and headquarters.

And always the people stared at me, just as I had stared at other prisoners being carted away to no one knew what fate. Sometimes they came back. Sometimes they did not. I wondered, which I would do. At last we arrived at headquarters after passing through my own. miles of lofty ruins where I had played and explored as a child. I was taken immediately into Ortis's presence. He sat in a large room at the head of a long table, and I saw that there were other men sitting along the sides of the table, the local representatives of that hated

authority known as the 24, the form of government that the Calcars had brought with them from the moon a century before. The 24 originally consisted of a committee of that number. Now, however, it was but a name that stood for power, for government, and for tyranny. Jarath the Jimedarar was, in reality, what his lunar title indicated, Emperor. Surrounding him was a committee of 24 calcars, but as they had been appointed by him and could be removed by him at will, they were nothing more than his tools. And this body before which I had been hailed had in our Tevos the same power as the 24 which gave it birth, and so we spoke of it too as the 24, or as the Tevos, as I at first thought it to be.

Many of these men I recognized as members of the Tevos. Thav and Hoffmeier were there, representing our district, or misrepresenting it, as Father always put it, yet I was presently sure that this could not be a meeting of the Tevos proper, as these were held in another building farther south, a magnificent pillar pile of olden times that the government had partially restored, as they had the headquarters. which also had been a beautiful building in a past age, its great lions still standing on either side of its broad entranceway facing toward the west. No, it was not the Tevos, but what could it be? And then it dawned upon me that it must be an arm of the new law that Ortes had announced.

And such it proved to be, a special military tribunal for special offenders. This was the first session, and it chanced to be my luck, that I committed my indiscretion, in time to be hailed before it, when it needed someone to experiment on. I was made to stand under guard at the foot of the table, and as I looked up and down the rows of faces on either side, I saw not a friendly eye, no person of my class or race, just swine, swine, swine. Low-browed, brute-faced men,

slouching in their chairs, slovenly in their dress, uncouth, unwashed, unwholesome, looking. This was the personnel of the court that was to try me. For what? I was soon to find out. Ortis asked who appeared against me, and what was the charge, and then I saw Sear for the first time. He should have been in his district collecting his taxes, but he wasn't. No, he was here on more pleasant business. He eyed me malevolently, and stated the charge, resisting an officer of the law in the discharge of his duty, and assaulting same with a deadly weapon with intent to commit murder. They all looked ferociously at me, expecting no doubt that I would tremble with terror as most of my class did before them.

But I couldn't tremble. The charge struck me as so ridiculous. As a matter of fact, I am afraid that I grinned. I know I did. What is it? asked Orte's, that amuses you so. The charge, I replied. What is there funny about that? he asked again. Men have been shot for less, men who were not suspected of treasonable acts. I did not resist an officer in the discharge of his duty, I said.

It is not one of a tax collector's duties to put a family out of its pin at the marketplace, is it? A pin they have occupied for three generations. I ask you, Ortis, is it? Ortis half rose from his chair. How dare you address me thus? He cried. The others turned, scowling faces. upon me, and beating the table with their dirty fists they all shouted and bellowed at me at once,

but I kept my chin up as I had sworn to do until I died, and I laughed in their faces. Finally they quieted down, and again I put my question to Ortis, and I'll give him credit for answering it fairly. No, he said, only the Tevos may do that, the Tevos or the Commandant. Then I did not resist an officer in the discharge of his duty, I shot back at them, for I only refused to the pen that is mine. And now another question, is a cheese a deadly weapon? They had to admit that it was not. He demanded a present from my father, I explained, and I brought him a cheese. He had no right under the law to demand it, and so I threw it at him and it hit him in the head. I shall deliver thus every such

illegal tithe that is demanded of us. I have my rights under the law, and I intend to see that they are respected. They had never been talked to thus before. and suddenly I realized that by merest chance I had stumbled upon the only way in which to meet these creatures. They were moral as well as physical cowards. They could not face an honest, fearless man. Already they were showing signs of embarrassment. They knew that I was right, and while they could have condemned me had I bowed the knee to them, they hadn't the courage to do it in my presence.

The natural outcome was that they sought a scapegoat, and Ortis was not long in finding one, His baleful eye alighted upon Sour. Does this man speak the truth? He cried the tax collector. Did you turn him out of his pin? Did he do no more than throw a cheese at you? Sore, a coward before those in authority over him,

flushed and stammered. He tried to kill me, he mumbled lamely. And he did almost kill brother von Buehlin. Then I told them of that. And always I spoke in a tone of authority, and I held my ground. I did not fear them, and they knew it. Sometimes I think they attributed it to some knowledge I had of something

that might be menacing them, for they were always afraid of revolution. That is why they ground us down so. The outcome of it was that I was let go with a warning, a warning that if I did not address my fellows as brother, I would be punished. And even then I gave the parting shot, for I told them I would call no man brother unless he was. The whole affair was a farce, but all trials were farces, only as a rule the joke was on the accused.

They were not conducted in a dignified or proper manner, as I imagined trials in ancient times to have been. There was neither order nor system. I had to walk all the way home, another manifestation of justice, and I arrived there an hour or two after suppertime. I found Jim and Molly and Hwana at the house, and I could see that mother had been crying. She started again when she saw me. Poor mother. I wonder if it had always been such a terrible thing to be a mother. But no, it cannot have been, else the human race would long since have been extinct,

as the Calcars will rapidly make it anyway. Jim had told them of the happenings in the marketplace, the episode of the Bull, the encounter with Von Bieland, and the matter of Soar. For the first time in my life and the only time I heard my father laugh aloud. Hwana laughed too. But there was still an undercurrent of terror that I could feel in which Molly finally voiced.

They will get us yet again, Julian, she said. But what you have done is worth dying for. Yes, cried my father. I can go to the butcher with a smile on my lips after this. He has done what I always wanted. to do, but dared not. If I am a coward, I can at least think God that there sprang from my loins a brave and fearless man. You are not a coward, I cried, and mother looked at me and smiled. I was glad that I had said that then. You may not understood what father meant by going to the butcher,

but it is simple. The manufacture of ammunition is a lost art, that is the high-powered ammunition that the cash guard likes to use, and so they conserve all the vast stores of ammunition that were handed down from ancient times, millions upon millions of rounds, or they would not be able to use the rifles that were handed down with the ammunition. They use this ammunition only in cases of dire necessity,

a fact which long ago placed the firing squad of old in the same class with flying machines and automobiles. Now they cut our throats when they kill us, and the man who does it is known as the butcher. I walked home with Jim and Molly and Hwana, but more especially, Hwana. Again I noticed that strange magnetic force which drew me to her, so that I kept bumping into her every step or two, and intentionally I swung my arm that was nearest to her in the hope that my hand might touch hers.

Nor was I doomed to disappointment, and at every touch I thrilled. I could not but notice that Hwana made no mention of my clumsiness, nor did she appear to attempt to prevent our contact. but yet I was afraid of her, afraid that she would notice, and afraid that she would not. I'm good with horses and goats and hell-hounds, but I am not much good with girls.

We had talked upon many subjects, and I knew her views and beliefs, and she knew mine, so when we parted and I asked her if she would go with me on the morrow, which was the first Sunday of the month, she knew what I meant. She said that she would,

and I went home, very happy, for I knew that she and I were going to defy the common enemy side by side, that hand in hand we would face the grim reaper for the sake of the greatest cause on earth. On the way, I overtook Peter Johansson, going in the direction of our home. I could see that he had no mind to meet me, and he immediately fell to explaining lengthily why he was out at night, for the first thing I did was to ask him what strange business took him abroad so often late after the sun had set. I could see him flush even in the dark.

Why? he exclaimed. This is the first time in months that I have gone out after supper. And then something about the man made me lose my temper and I blurted out what was in my heart. You lie! I cried. You lie, you damn spy! And then Peter Johansson went white and suddenly whipping a knife from his clothes. He leapt at me, striking wildly for any part of me that the blade might reach. At first he liked to have got me. So unexpected and so venomous was the attack, but though I was struck twice on the arm and cut a little, I managed to ward the point from any vital part, and in a moment I had seized his knife wrist. That was the end. I just twisted it a little. I did not mean to twist hard and something snapped inside his wrist. Peter let out an awful scream. His knife dropped from his fingers and I pushed him from me and gave him a good kick as he was leaving, a kick that I think he will remember for some time.

I picked up his knife and hurled it as far as I could in the direction of the river, and went on my way toward home, whistling. When I entered the house, Mother came out of her room, and putting her arms about my neck, she clung closely to me. Dear boy, she murmured, I am so happy because you are happy. She is a dear girl, and I love her as much as you do. What is the matter? I ask. What are you talking about? I heard you whistling, she said.

And I knew what it meant. Grown men whistle but once in their lives. I picked her up in my arms and tossed her to the ceiling. Oh, mother dear, I cried. I wish it were true, and maybe it will be someday if I am not too much of a coward, but not yet. Then why were you whistling? She asked, surprised and a bit skeptical, too, I imagine. I whistled, I explained, because I just broke the wrist of a spy and kicked him across the road.

"'Peter?' she asked, trembling. "'Yes, mother, Peter. "'I called him a spy, and he tried to knife me. "'Oh, my son!' she cried. "'You did not know. "'It is my fault I should have told you. "'Now he will fight no more in the dark, "'but he will come out in the open,

"'and when he does that, I am lost.' "'What do you mean?' I asked. "'I do not mind dying,' she said. "'But they will take your father first because of me.' "'What do you mean? I can understand nothing of what you were driving at. Then listen, she said. Peter wants me.

That is the reason he is spying on your father. If he can prove something on him, and father is taken to the mines or killed, Peter will claim me. How do you know this? I asked. Peter himself has told me that he wants me. He tried to make me leave your dear father and go with him. And when I refused, he bragged that he was in the favor of the Calcars.

and that he would get me in the end. He has tried to buy my honor with your father's life. That is why I've been so afraid and so unhappy. But I knew that you and father would rather die than have me do that thing. And so I have withstood him. Did you tell father? I asked. I dared not.

He would have killed Peter, and that would have been the end of us, for Peter stands high in the graces of the authorities. I will kill him, I said. She tried to dissuade me, and finally I had to promise her that I would wait until I had provocation that the authorities might recognize. God knows I had provocation enough, though. After breakfast the next day, we set out singly, and in different directions, as was always our custom on the first Sunday in each month. I went to Jim's first to get Juana, as she did not know the way, having never been with us. I found her ready and waiting and alone as Jim and Molly had started a few minutes before,

before, and she was seemingly very glad to see me. I told her nothing of Peter, as there is enough trouble in the world without burdening people with any that does not directly threaten them. Each has plenty of his own. I led her up the river for a mile, and all the while we watched to see if we were followed. Then we found a skiff where I had hidden it and crossed the river, and after hiding it again we continued on up for a half a mile. Here was a raft that I had made myself, and on this we pulled to the opposite shore. If any followed us, they must have swum, for there were no other boats on this part of the river. A mile west of the river is a thick forest of very old trees, and toward this I led Hwana. At its verge we sat down ostensibly to rest,

but really to see if anyone was near who might have followed us, or who could accidentally discover our next move. There was no one in sight, and so with light hearts we arose and entered the forest. For a quarter of a mile we made our way along a winding path, and then I turned to the left at a right angle, and entered thick brush where there was no trail. Always we did this, never covering the last quarter of a mile over the same route, lest we make a path that might be marked and followed. Presently we came to a pile of brushwood beneath one edge of which was an opening into which, by stooping low, one might enter. It was screened from view by a fallen tree over which had been heaped broken branches.

Even in wintertime and early spring, the opening in the brush beyond was invisible to the passers-by, if there had been any passers-by, which, except upon rare occasions there were not. A man-trailing lost stock might come this way, but no others, for it was a lonely and unfrequented spot. During the summer, the season of the year when there was the greatest danger of discovery, the entire brush pile and its tangled screen were hidden completely beneath a man mass of wild vines, so that it was with difficulty that we found it. Into this opening I led Hwana, taking her by the hand as one might a blind person, although it was not so dark within that she could not see perfectly every step she took.

However, I took her by the hand, a poor excuse being better than none. The winding tunnel beneath the brush was a hundred yards long, perhaps. I wish then that it had been a hundred miles. It ended abruptly before a rough stone wall in which was a heavy door. Its oaken panels were black with age, and streaked with green from the massive hinges that ran across its entire width in three places. While from the great lag screws that fastened them to the door, brownish streaks of rust ran down to mingle with the green and the black. In patches, moss grew upon it, so that all in all, it had the appearance of great antiquity, though even the oldest among those who knew of it at all could only guess at its age.

It had been there longer than they could recall. Above the door carved in stone was a shepherd's crook in the words, Du et Mondeurore. Halting before this massive portal, I struck the panels once with my knuckles, counted five, and struck again once. Then I counted three, and in the same cadence, struck three times. It was the signal for the day. Never twice was it the same.

Should one come with the wrong signal And later forced the door He would find only an empty room beyond. Now the door opened a crack and an eye peered forth. Then it swung outward And we entered a long low room Lighted by burning wicks floating in oil. Across the width of the room

Were rough wooden benches And at the far end a raised platform Upon which stood Oren Colby, The blacksmith, behind an altar Which was the sawn-off trunk of a tree. tree, the roots of which, legend has it, still run down into the ground beneath the church, which is supposed to have been built around it. End of Chapter 5.

Chapter 6 of the Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Librevox recording is in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker. Chapter 6. Betrayed There were 12 people sitting on the benches when we entered, so that with Orrin Culber, "'Colby, ourselves, and the man at the door we were sixteen in all. "'Colby is the head of our church, "'his great-grandfather having been a Methodist minister.

"'Father and mother were there, sitting next to Jim and Mali, "'and there were Samuels, the Jew, Betty Worth, "'who was Dennis Corrigan's woman, and all the other familiar faces. "'They had been waiting for us, and as soon as we were seated, "'the services commenced with a prayer, "'everyone standing with bowed head. "'Oren Colby always delivered the same short prayer "'at the opening of services,

each first Sunday of every month. It ran something like this. God of our fathers, through generations of persecution and cruelty in a world of hate that has turned against you, we stand at your right hand, loyal to you and to our flag. To us, your name stands for justice,

humanity, love, happiness, and right, and the flag is your emblem. Once each month we risk our lives that your name may not perish from the earth. Amen. From behind the altar he took a shepherd's crook, to which was attached a flag like that in my father's position, and held it aloft. Whereat we all knelt in silence for a few seconds. Then he replaced it and we arose.

Then we sang a song. It was an old, old song that started like this. Onward Christian soldier. It was my favorite song, Molly Sheehan played a violin while we sang. Following the song, Orrin Colby talked to us. He always talked about the practical things that affected our lives and our future. It was a homely talk, but it was full of hope for better times. I think that at these meetings, once each month,

we heard the only suggestions of hope that ever came into our lives. There was something about Orrin Colby that inspired confidence and hope. These days were the bright spots in our drab existence that helped to make life bearable. After that we sang again, and then Samuels, the Jew, prayed, and the regular service was over after which we had short talks by various members of our church. These talks were mostly on the subject which dominated the minds of all. A revolution. But we never got any further than talking.

How could we? We were probably the most thoroughly subjugated people the world had ever known. We feared our masters, and we feared our neighbors. We did not know whom we might trust Outside that little coterie of ours And so we dared not seek recruits for our cause Although we knew that there must be thousands Who would sympathize with us

Spies and informers were everywhere They, the cash guard and the butcher, Were the agencies by which they controlled us But of all we feared most the spies and informers For a woman, for a neighbor's house And in one instance of which I know for a setting of eggs. Men have been known to inform on their friends,

sending them to the mines or the butcher. Following the talks, we just visited together and gossiped for an hour or two, enjoying the rare treat of being able to speak our minds freely and fearlessly. I had to retell several times my experiences before Ortis' new court-martial, and I know that it was with difficulty that they believed that I had said the things I had to our masters, and come away free and alive.

They simply could not understand it. All were warned of Peter Johansson, and the names of others under suspicion of being informers were passed around that we might all be on our guard against them. We did not sing again, for even on these days that our hearts were lightest, they were too heavy for song. About two o'clock the past signal for the next meeting was given out,

and then we started away singly or in pairs. I volunteered to go last, with Hwana and see that the door was locked, and an hour later after the rest had gone, we started out about five minutes behind Samuels the Jew. Hwana and I had emerged from the wood when we noticed a man walking cautiously in the shade of the trees ahead of us.

He seemed to be following someone, and immediately there sprang to my thoughts the ever-near suspicion. Spy. The moment that he turned a bend in the pathway and was out of our sight, Hwana and I ran forward as rapidly as well. we could, that we might get a closer view of him, nor were we disappointed. We saw and recognized him, and we also saw whom he shadowed. It was Peter Johansson, carrying one arm in a sling,

sneaking along behind Samuels. Casting about in my mind for some plan to throw Peter off the track, I finally hit upon a scheme which I immediately put into execution. I knew the way that the old man followed to and from church, and that presently he would make a wide detour that would bring him back to the river about a quarter of a mile below. Hwana and I could walk straight to the spot and arrive long before Samuels did, and this we proceeded to do. About half an hour after we reached the point at which we knew he would strike the river, we heard him coming and withdrew into some bushes. On he came, all oblivious of the creature on his trail. In a moment later we saw Peter come into view and halt at the edge of the trees.

Then Hwana and I stepped out and hailed Samuels. Did you see nothing of them? I asked in a tone of voice loud enough to be distinctly heard by Peter. And then before Samuels could reply, I added, We have searched far up the river and never a sign of a goat about. I do not believe that they came this way after all. But if they did, the hell-hounds will get them after dark. Come now, we might as well start for home and give the search up as a bad job.

I had talked so much and so rapidly that Samuels. Samuels had guessed that I must have some reason for it, and so he held his peace other than to say that he had seen nothing of any goats. Not once had Huana or I let our glances betray that we knew of Peter's presence, though I could not help but see him dodge behind a tree the moment that he saw us. The three of us then continued on toward home in the shortest direction, and on the way I whispered to Samuels what we had seen. The old man chuckled, for he thought as I did that my ruse must have effectually baffled Johansom. unless he had followed Moses farther than we guessed.

Very cautiously, during the ensuing week, the word was passed around by means with which we were familiar, that Johansson had followed Samuels from church. But as the authorities paid no more attention to Moses than before, we finally concluded that we had thrown Peter off the trail. The Sunday following church we were all seated in Jim's yard under one of his trees that had already put forth its young leaves and afforded shade from the sun. We had been talking of homely things.

The coming crops, the newborn kids, Molly's little pigs. The world seemed unusually kindly. The authorities had not persecuted us of late. Rather, they had left us alone. A respite of two weeks seemed like heaven to us. We were quite sure by this time that Peter Johansson had discovered nothing. And our hearts were freer than for a long time past. We were sitting thus in quiet and contentment, enjoying a little.

brief rest from our lives of drudgery when we heard the pounding of horses, hooves, upon the hard earth of the path that leads down the river in the direction of the marketplace. Suddenly the entire atmosphere changed. Relaxed nerves became suddenly taught. Peaceful eyes resumed their hunted expression. Why?

The cash guard rides. And so they came fifty of them, and at their head rode brother General Ortiz. At the gateway of Jim's house, They drew rain, and Ortus dismounted and entered the yard. He looked at us as a man might look at Carrion, and he gave us no greeting, which suited us perfectly. He walked straight to Juana, who was seated on a little bench, beside which I stood leaning against the bowl of the tree. None of us moved. He halted before the girl.

"'I have come to tell you,' he said to her, "'that I have done you the honor to choose you as my woman, to bear my children, and keep my house in order. He stood then looking at her, and I could feel the hair upon my head rise and the corners of my upper lip twitched. I know not why. I only know that I wanted to fly at his throat and kill him,

to tear his flesh with my teeth, to see him die. And then he looked at me and stepped back, after which he beckoned to some of his men to enter. When they had come, he again addressed Hwana, who had risen, swaying to and fro as might one who has been dealt a heavy blow upon the head and half stunned. You may come with me now, he said to her, and then I stepped between them and faced him, and again he

stepped back apace. She will not come with you now or ever, I said, and my voice was very low, not above a whisper. She is my woman. I have taken her. It was a lie, the last part, but what is a lie to a man who would commit murder in the same cause. He was among his men now. They were close around him, and I suppose they gave him courage, for he addressed me threateningly. I do not care who she is,

he cried. I want her, and I shall have her. I speak for her now, and I speak for her when she is a widow. After you are dead, I have first choice of her, and the traitors do not live long. I am not dead yet,

I reminded him. He turned to Hwana. You shall have thirty days, as the law requires. But you can save your friend's trouble if you come now. They will not be molested, then, and I will see that their taxes are lowered. Hwana gave a little gasp, and looked around at us, and then she straightened her shoulders and came close to me. No, she said to Ortus. I will never go.

This is my man. He has taken me. Ask him if he will give me up to you. He will never have me alive. "'Don't be too sure of that,' he growled. "'I believe you are both lying to me, "'for I have had you watched, "'and I know that you do not live under the same roof.

"'And you,' he glared at me, "'tread carefully for the eyes of the law-fine traitors, "'where others do not see them.' "'Then he turned and strode from the yard. "'A minute later they were gone in a cloud of dust. Now our happiness and peace had fled. It was always thus, and there was no hope. I dared not look at Hwana after what I had said,

but then had she not said the same thing? We all talked lamely for a few minutes, and then father and mother rose to go, and a moment later Jim and Molly went indoors. I turned to Hwana. She stood with her eyes upon the ground and a pretty flush upon her cheek. Something surged,

up in me. A mighty force that I had never known possessed me, and before I realized what it impelled me to do, I had seized Juana in my arms and was covering her face and lips with kisses. She fought to free herself, but I would not let her go. You are mine, I cried. You are my woman. I've said it. You have said. You're my woman. God, how I love you! She lay quiet then and let me kiss her, and presently her arms stole about my neck, and her lips sought mine, and her lips sought mine in an interval that I had drawn them away, and they moved upon my lips in a gentle caress that was yet palpitant with passion.

This was a new, Hwana, a new and very wonderful Hwana. You really love me? she asked at last. I heard you say it. I have loved you from the moment I saw you looking up at me from beneath the hellhound, I replied. You have kept it very much of a secret to yourself then, she teased me. If you love me so, why did you not tell me?

Were you going to keep it from me all my life, or were you afraid? Brother Ortis was not afraid to say that he wanted me. Is my man, my Julian, less brave than he? I knew that she was only teasing me, and so I stopped her mouth with kisses, and then, had you been a hellhound or sewer or even Ortis, I said, I could have told you what I thought of you, but being Hwana and a little girl, the words would not come. I am a great coward.

We talked until it was time to go home to supper, and I took her hand to lead her to my house. But first, I said, you must tell Molly and Jim what has happened, and that you will not be back. For a while we can live under my father's roof, but as soon as may be I will get permission from the Tevos to take the adjoining land, and work it, and then I shall build a house. She drew back and flushed, I cannot go with you yet, she said. "'What do you mean?' I asked. "'You are mine.' "'We have not been married,' she whispered. "'But no one is married,' I reminded her.

"' Marriage is against the law.' "'My mother was married,' she told me. "'You and I can be married. "'We have a church and a preacher. "'Why cannot he marry us? "'He is not ordained because there is none to ordain him. "'But being the head of the only church "'that he knows of or that we know of,

"'it is evident that he can be ordained only by God. And who knows, but that he already has been ordained. I tried to argue her out of it, as now that heaven was so near I had no mind to wait three weeks to attain it, but she would not argue. She just shook her head, and at last I saw that she was right and gave in, as I would have to do in any event.

I went to Thav, who was one of our representatives in the Tevos, and asked him to procure for me permission to work the vacant land adjoining my father's. The land all belonged to the community, but each man was allowed what he could work as long as there was plenty, and there was more than plenty for all. Thav was very ugly. He seemed to have forgotten that I had saved his child's life, and said that he did not know what he could do for me, that I had acted very badly to General Ortis and was in disfavor, besides being under suspicion in another matter. What does General Ortis to do with the distribution of land by the Tevos? I asked. Because he wants my woman, will the Tevos deny me my rights?

Thav's woman came in while I was talking and recognized me, but she said nothing to me other than to mention that the child had asked for me. Thav scowled at this and ordered her from the room just as a man might order a beast around. It was nothing to me, though, as the woman was a renegade anyway. Finally, I demanded of Thov that he obtained the concession for me unless he could give me some valid reason for refusing. I will ask it, he said finally, but you will not get it, be sure of that. As I was leaving the house, Thaw's woman stopped me.

I will do what I can for you, she whispered. She must have seen me draw away instinctively as from an unclean thing, for she flushed and then said, Please don't, I have suffered enough, I've paid the price of my treachery, but no yank, and she put her lips close to me. my ear, that at heart I am more yank than I was when I did this thing. And she continued, I've never spoke a word that could harm one of you. Tell them that. Please tell them. I do not want them to hate me so. And God of our fathers, however, suffered. The degradation, the humiliation. It

has been worse than what you were made to suffer. The creatures are lower than the beasts of the forest. When his friends come, he serves them food and drink and me. I can, ugh. I can kill him if I were not such a coward. I have seen and I know how they can make one suffer before death. I could not but feel sorry for her, and I told her so. The poor creature appeared very grateful and assured me that she would aid me. I know a few things about Thav that he would not want Ortiz to know, she said, and even though he beats me for it, I will make him get the land for you. Again, I thinked her and departed, realizing that there were others worse than we. That the closer one came to the Calcars, the more hideous life became. At last the day

came and we set out for the church. As before, I took Hwana, though she tried to order it differently. But I would not trust her to the protection of another. We arrived without mishap, 16 of us. And after the religious services were over, Hwana and I stood before the altar and were married, much after the fashion of the ancients, I imagine. Hwana was the only one of us who was at all sure about the ceremony. And it had been she who trained Oren Colby, making him memorize so much that he said his head ached for a week. All I can recall of it is that he asked me if I would take her to be my lawfully wedded wife. I lost my voice and only squeaked a week, yes?

And that he pronounced us man and wife, and then something about not letting anyone put us under what God had joined together. I felt very much married and very happy, and then just as it was all nicely over and everybody was shaking. taking hands with us. There came a loud knocking at the door, and the command, Open in the name of the law! We looked at one another and gasped. Orrin Colby put a finger to his lips for silence and led the way toward the back of the church, where a rough niche was built in, containing a few shelves upon which stood several rude candlesticks. We knew our parts and followed him in silence except one who went quickly about putting out the lights. All the time the pounding on the door became more insistent, and then we could hear the strokes of what must have been an axe

beating at the panels. Finally a shot was fired through the heavy wood, and we knew that it was the cash guard. Taking hold of the lower shelf, Oran pulled upward with all his strength with the result that all the shelving and woodwork to which it was attached slid upward revealing and opening beyond. Through this we filed one by one down a flight of stone steps into a dark tunnel. When the last man had passed, I lowered the shelving to its former place, being careful to see that it fitted tightly. Then I turned and followed the others, Juana's hand and mine.

We groped our way for some little distance in the Stygian darkness of the tunnel until Oran halted and whispered to me to come to him. I went and stood at his side while he told me what I was to do. He had called upon me because I was the tallest and the strongest

of the men. Above us was a wooden trap. I was to lift this and push it aside. It had not been moved for generations and was very heavy with earth and growing things above, but I put my shoulders to it, and it had to give, either it or the ground beneath my feet, and that could not give. At last I had it off, and in a few minutes I had helped them all out into the midst of a dense wood.

Again we knew our parts, for many times had we been coached for just such an emergency, and one by one the men scattered in different directions, each taking his woman with him. Suiting our movements to a pre-arranged plan, we reached our homes from different directions and at different times. Some arriving after sundown, to the end that, where we watched, none might be sure that we had been upon the same errand or to the same place. End of Chapter 6. Chapter 7 of The Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burrows The Slibervox recording is in the public domain. read by Ben Tucker

Chapter 7 The Arrest of Julian the 8th A week later Thav sent for me and very gruffly told me that the Tevos had issued the permit for me to use the land adjoining that allotted to my father As before his woman

stopped me as I was leaving It was easier than I thought She told me For Ortus has angered the Tevos By attempting to usurp all its powers And knowing that he hates you they were glad to grant your petition over his objection. During the next two or three months, I was busy building our home and getting my place in order.

I decided to raise horses and obtained permission from the Tivos to do so, again over Ordis's objections. Of course, the government controlled the entire horse traffic, but there were a few skilled horsemen permitted to raise them, though at any time their herds could be commandeered by the authorities. I knew that it might not be a very profitable business, but I loved horses and wanted to have just a few, a stallion, and two or three mares. These I could use in tilling my fields and in the heavier work of hauling, and at the same time I would keep a few goats, pigs, and chickens to ensure us a living. Father gave me half his goats, and a few chickens, and from Jim I bought two young sals and a boar. Later I traded a few goats to the Tebow's for two old mares that they thought were no longer worth keeping,

and that same day I was told of a stallion, a young outlaw, that Hofmeyer had. The beast was five years old and so vicious that none dared approach him, and they were on the point of destroying him. I went to Hoffmire and asked if I could buy the animal. I offered him a goat for it, which he was glad to accept, and then I took a strong rope and went to get my property. I found a beautiful bay with the temper of a hellhound. When I attempted to enter the pen, he rushed at me with ears back and jaws distended, but I knew that I must conquer him now or never. And so I met him with only a rope in my hand, nor did I wait for him.

Instead I ran to meet him, and when he was in reach, I struck him once across the face with the rope, at which he wheeled and let both hind feet fly out. Then I cast the noose that was at one end of the rope, and caught him about the neck, and for half an hour we had a battle of it. I never struck him unless he tried to bite or strike me, and finally I must have convinced him that I was master, for he let me come close enough to stroke his glossy neck, though he snorted loudly all the while that I did so.

When I had quieted him a bit, I managed to get a half hitch around his lower jaw, and after that I had no difficulty in leading him from the pin. Once in the open I took the coils of my rope in my left hand, and before the creature knew what I was about, had vaulted to his back. He fought fair, I'll say that for him, for he stood on his feet, but for fifteen minutes he brought in to play every artifice known to horse kind for unseating a rider. Only my skill and my great strength kept me on his back, and at that even the calcars who were looking on had to applaud my horsemanship.

After that it was easy. I treated him with kindness, something he had never known before. And as he was an unusually intelligent animal, he soon learned that I was not only his master, but his friend. And from being an outlaw, he became one of the kindest and most tractable animals I have ever seen, so much so, in fact, that Hwana used to ride him bear back. I love all animals and always have, but I think I never loved any animals I did Red Lightning, as we named him.

The authorities left us pretty well alone for some time because they were quarreling among themselves. Jim said there was an ancient saying about honest men getting a little peace when thieves fell out, and it certainly fitted our case perfectly. But the peace didn't last forever, and when it broke, the bolt that fell was the worst calamity that had ever come to us. One evening father was arrested for trading at night and taken away by the cash guard.

They got him as he was returning to the house from the goat pins, and would not even permit him to bid goodbye to Mother. Hwana and I were eating supper in our own house, about 300 yards away, and never knew anything about it until Mother came running over to tell us. She said that it was all done so quickly that they had father and were gone before she could run from the house to where they arrested him.

They had a spare horse and hustled him on to it. Then they galloped away toward the lake front. It seems strange that neither Huana nor I heard the hoofbeats of the horses, but we did not. I went immediately to Thav, and demanded to know why father had been arrested, but he professed ignorance of the whole affair. I had ridden to his place on Red Lightning, and from there I started to the Cashguard Barracks, where the military prison is.

It is contrary to law to approach the barracks after sunset without permission, so I left Red Lightning in the shadow of some ruins, a hundred yards away, and started on foot toward that part of the post where I knew the prison to be located. The latter consists of a high stockade around the same. the inside of which are rude shelters upon the roofs, of which armed guards patrol. The center of the rectangle is an open court where the prisoners exercise, cook their food, and wash their clothing, if they care to. There are seldom more than 50 confined here at a time, as it is only a detention camp where they hold those who are awaiting trial and those who have

been sentenced to the mines. The latter are usually taken away when there are from 25 to 40 of them. After I reached the stockade I was at a loss to communicate with my father, since any noise I might make would doubtless attract the attention of the guard. But finally, through a crack between two boards, I attracted the attention of a prisoner. The man came close to the stockade, and I whispered to him that I wished to speak with Julian the 8th. My luck I had happened upon a decent fellow,

and it was not long before he had brought father, and I was talking with him in low whispers. He told me that he had been arrested for trading by night, and that he was to be tried on the morrow. I asked him if he would like to escape, that I would find the means if he wished me to. But he said that he was innocent of the charge as he had not been off our farm at night for months, and that doubtless it was a case of mistaken identity, and that he would be freed in the morning. I had my doubts, but he would not listen to escape as he argued that it would prove his guilt, and then they would have him for sure.

Where may I go? he asked. If I escape. I might hide in the woods, but what a life. I could never return to your mother, and so sure am I that they can prove nothing against me that I would rather stand trial than face the future as an outlaw. I think now that he refused my offer of assistance, not because he expected to be released,

but rather that he feared that he feared that evil might befall me were I to connive at his escape. At any rate, I did nothing, since he would not let me, and went home again with a heavy heart and dismal forebodings. Trials before the Tevos were public, or at least were supposed to be, though they made it so uncomfortable for spectators that few, if any, had the temerity to attend. But under Jarth's new rule, the proceedings of the military courts were secret, and father was tried before such a court.

End of Chapter 7. Chapter 8 Of the Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burroughs. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Read by Ben Tucker. Chapter 8. I horse whip an officer. We passed days of mental anguish, hearing nothing, knowing nothing.

And then one evening a single cash guard rode up to Father's House. Hwana and I were there with Mother, the fellow dismounted and knocked at the door, a most unusual courtesy from one of these. He entered at my bidding, and stood there a moment looking at Mother. He was only a lad, a big, overgrown boy,

and there were neither cruelty in his eyes nor the mark of the beast in any of his features. His mother's blood evidently predominated, and he was unquestionably not all Calcar. Presently he spoke. "'Which is Julian the Eighth's woman?' he asked, but he looked at Mother as though he already guessed. "'I am,' said Mother.

The lad shuffled his feet and caught his breath. It was like a stifled sob. "'I am sorry,' he said, "'that I bring you such sad news.' And then we guessed that the worst had happened. "'The minds?' mother asked him, and he nodded affirmatively. "'Ten years!' he exclaimed, as one might announce a sentence of death, for such it was.

"'He never had a chance.' He volunteered. "'It was a terrible thing. They are beasts.' I could not but show my surprise that a cash guard should speak so of his own kind, and he must have seen it in my face. "'We are not all beasts,' he hastened to exclaim. I commenced to question him then, and I found that he had been a sentry at the door during the trial, and had heard at all. There had been but one witness, the man who had informed on Father, and Father had been given no chance to make any defense.

I asked him who the informer was. I am not sure of the name, he replied. He was a tall, stoop-shouldered man. I think I heard him called Peter. But I had known even before I asked. I looked at Mother and saw that she was dry-eyed and that her mouth had suddenly hardened into a firmness of expression such as I had never dreamed it could assume.

Is that all? she asked. No, replied the youth. It is not. I am instructed to notify you that you have thirty days to take another man or vacate these premises. And then he took a step toward Mother. I am sorry, madam, he said. It is very cruel, but what are we to do?

It becomes worse each day. Now they are grinding down even the cash guard, so that there are many of us who... But he stopped suddenly as though realizing he was on the point of speaking treason to strangers. And turning on his heel, he quit the house, and a moment later was galloping away. I expected Mother to break down then,

but she did not. She was very brave. But there was a new and terrible expression. in her eyes. Those eyes that had shone forth always would love. Now they were bitter, hate-filled eyes. She did not weep. I wish to God she had. Instead, she did that which I had never known her to do before. She laughed aloud. Upon the slightest pretext, or upon no pretext at all, she laughed. We were afraid for her. The suggestion dropped by the cash guard started in my a train of thought, of which I spoke to mother and Juana. And after that, mother seemed more

normal for a while, as though I had aroused hope, however feeble, where there had been no hope before. I pointed out that if the cash guard was dissatisfied, the time was ripe for revolution, for if we could get only a part of them to join us, there would surely be enough of us to overthrow those who remain loyal to the flag. Then we would liberate all prisoners and set up a republic of our own, such as the ancients had had. It took time to develop my plan. I talked with everyone I could trust, and found them all willing to join me when we had enough. In the meantime, I cared for my own place, and fathers as well. I was very busy, and time flew rapidly. About a month after father was taken away, I came home one day with Hwana, who had accompanied

me up river in search of a goat that had strayed. We had found its carcass, or rather its bones, hillhounds had left them. Mother was not at our house, where she now spent most of her time, so I went over to fathers to get her. As I approached the door, I heard sounds of an altercation and scuffling that made me cover the few remaining yards at a rapid run. Without waiting to knock, as mother had taught me always to do, I burst into the living room to discover mother in the clutches of Peter Johansson. She was trying to fight him off, but he was forcing her slowly toward her bedroom, for he was a large and powerful man. He heard me, just as I leaped for him and turning, grappled with me. He tried to hold me off with one hand, then, while he drew his knife, but I struck him

in the face with one fist, and knocked him from me way across the room. He was up again in an instant, bleeding from nose and mouth, and back at me with his knife in his hand, slashing furiously. Again, I struck him and knocked him down, and when he rose and came again, I seized his knife hand, and tore the weapon from him. He had no slightest chance against me, and he saw it soon, for he commenced to back away and beg for mercy. "'Kill him, Julian,' said Mother. "'Kill the murderer of your father.' I did not need her appeal to influence me. For the moment that I had seen Peter there, I knew my long-awaited time had come to kill him. He commenced to cry then. Great tears ran down his cheeks, and he bolted for the door and tried to escape. It was my pleasure to pull. It was my pleasure to

play with him as a cat plays with a mouse. I kept him from the door, seizing him and hurling him bodily across the room, and then I let him reach the window through which he tried to crawl, and I permitted him to get so far that he thought he was about to escape, and then I seized him again, and dragged him back to the floor, and lifting him to his feet, I made him fight. I struck him lightly in the face many times, and then I laid him on his back across the table, and kneeling on his chest, I spoke to him softly. You had my friend, old Samuels, murdered, and my father, too, and now you come to befal my mother. What did you expect, swine?

But this, have you no intelligence? You must have known that I would kill you. Speak! They said they would get you today, he whimpered. They lied to me. They went back on me. They told me that you would be in the pen. at the barracks before noon. Damn them they lied to me!

So, that was how it was, hey? And the lucky circumstance of the strayed goat had saved me to avenge my father and succor my mother. But they would come yet. I must hurry, or they might come before I was through, and so I took his head between my hands and bent his neck far back over the edge of the table until I heard his spine part. And that was the end of the vilest traitor who ever lived. one who professed friendship openly and secretly conspired a ruinous. In broad daylight I carried his body to the river and threw it in. I was past caring what they knew.

They were coming for me, and they would have their way with me, whether they had any pretext or not. But they would have to pay a price for me. That I determined, and I got my knife and strapped it and it scabbard about my waist beneath my shirt. But they did not come. They had lied to Peter just as they lie to everyone. The next day was market day and tax day, so I went to market with the necessary goats and produce to make my trades and pay my taxes.

As Sewer passed around the marketplace making his collections, or rather his levies, for we had to deliver the stuff to his place ourselves, I saw from the excited conversation of those in his wake that he was spreading alarm and consternation among the people of the commune. I wondered what it might all be about. Nor had I long to wait to discover, for he soon reached me.

He could neither read nor write, but he had a form furnished by the government upon which were numbers that the agents were taught how to read, and which stood for various classes of produce, livestock, and manufacturers. In columns beneath these numbers, he made marks during the month for the amount of my trades in each item. It was all crude, of course, and inaccurate, but as they always overcharged us and then added some, something to make up for any errors they might have made to our credit, the government was satisfied even if we were not. Being able to read and write, as well as to figure, I always knew to a dot just what was due for me in tax, and I always had an argument with Sewer, from which government emerged

victorious every time. This month I should have owed him one goat, but he demanded three. How is that? I asked. Under the old rate you owed me the equivalent of a... goat and a half. But since the tax had been doubled under the new law, you owe me three goats. Then it was, I knew the cause of the excitement in other parts of the marketplace. How do you expect us to live if you take everything from us? I asked. The government does not care whether you live or not, he replied, as long as you pay taxes while you do live.

I will pay the three goats, I said, because I have to. But next market day, I will bring you a present. of the hardest cheese I can find. He did not say anything, for he was afraid of me unless he was surrounded by cash guards, but he looked ugly. The commander of the cash guard company must have noticed the crowd around us,

for he rode straight toward me alone. I would not give him the satisfaction of thinking that I feared him, and so I stood there waiting. The officer reigned in before me. What are you doing here? He barked. Minding my own.

business as you had better do, I replied. You swine are becoming insufferable, he cried. Get to your pin where you belong. I will stand for no mobs and no insolence. I just stood there looking at him. But there was murder in my heart. He loosened the bullhide whip that hung at the pommel of his saddle. You have to be driven, do you?

He was livid with sudden anger and his voice almost a scream. Then he struck at me, a vicious blow with the heavy whip. struck at my face. I dodged the lash and seized it, wrenching it from his puny grasp. And then I caught his bridle, and though his horse plunged and fought, I lashed the rider with all my strength

a dozen times before he tumbled from the saddle to the trampled earth of the marketplace. Then his men were upon me, and I went down from a blow on the head. They bounded my hands while I was unconscious, and then hustled me roughly into a saddle. I was half days during the awful ride that ensued. We rode to the military prison at the barracks,

and all the way, that fiend of a captain rode beside me, and lashed me with his bullhide whip. End of Chapter 8. Chapter 9 of the Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burroughs. The Slibervox recording is in the public domain, read by Ben Tucker. Chapter 9. Revolution Then they threw me into the pin where the prisoners were kept, and after they had left I was surrounded by the other unfortunates incarcerated there.

When they learned what I had done, they shook their heads and sighed. It would be all over with me in the morning, they said. Nothing less than the butcher for such an offense is mine. I lay upon the hard ground, bruised and sore, thinking not of my future but of what was to befall Hwana, and mother, if I too, were taken from them. And the thought gave me new strength, and made me forget my hurts, for my mind was busy with plans, mostly impossible plans, for escape, and vengeance.

Vengeance was often uppermost in my mind. Above my head at intervals I heard the pacing of the century upon the roof. I could tell, of course, each time that he passed and the direction in which he was going. It required about five minutes for him to pass above me, reached the end of his post, and return. That was when he went west. Going east, he took but a trifle over two minutes. Therefore, when he passed me going west, his back was toward me for about two and a half minutes. But when he went east, it was only for about a minute that his face was turned from the spot where I lay. Of course, he could not see me while I lay beneath the shed.

But my plan, the one I finally decided upon, did not include remaining. in the shed. I had evolved several subtle schemes for escape, but finally cast them all aside and chose instead the boldest that occurred to me. I knew that at best the chances were small that I could succeed in any plan, and therefore the boldest seemed as likely as any other, and it at least had the advantage of speedy results. I would be free, or I would be dead, in a few brief moments after I essayed it. I waited, therefore, until the other prisoners had quieted down, and, compared to comparative silence in the direction of the barracks, and the parade assured me that there were few abroad. The sentry came and went, and came again upon his monotonous round. Now he was coming toward me,

from the east, and I was ready, standing just outside the shed beneath the low eaves which I could reach by jumping. I heard him pass and gave him a full minute to gain the distance I thought necessary to drown the sounds of my attempt from his ears, and then I leaped for the eaves, caught with my fingers and drew myself quickly to the roof. I thought that I did it very quietly, but the fellow must have had the ears of a hellhound, for no more had I drawn my feet beneath me for the quick run across the roof than a challenge rang out

from the direction of the century, and almost simultaneously the report of a rifle. Instantly all was pandemonium. Guards ran, shouting from all directions, lights flashed in the barracks, rifles spoke from either side of me and from behind me, while from below rose the dismal howlings of the prisoners. It seemed then that a hundred men had known of my plan, and been lying and wait for me,

but I was launched upon it, and even though I had regretted it, there was nothing to do but carry it through to whatever was its allotted end. It seemed a miracle that none of the bullets struck me, but of course it was dark and I was moving rapidly. It takes seconds to tell about it, but it required less than a second for me to dash across the roof and leap to the open ground beyond the prison pin. I saw lights moving west of me, and so I ran east toward the lake, and presently the firing ceased as they lost sight of me,

though I could hear sounds of pursuit. Nevertheless, I felt that I had succeeded and was congratulating myself upon the ease with which I had accomplished the seemingly impossible. When there suddenly rose before me out of the black night, the figure of a huge soldier pointing a rifle point-blank at me. He issued no challenge, nor asked any question, just pulled the trigger.

I could hear the hammer strike the firing gun. pin, but there was no explosion. I did not know what the reason was, nor did I ever know. All that was apparent was that the rifle missed fire, and then he brought his bayonet into play while I was springing toward him. Foolish, man, but then he did not know that it was Julian the ninth he faced. Pitifully, futilely, he thrust at me, and with one hand I seized the rifle and tore it from his grasp. In the same movement, I swung it behind me and above my head, bringing it down with all the strength of one arm upon his thick skull. Like a felled ox, he tumbled to his knees and then sprawled forward upon his face. His head crushed to a pulp. He never knew how he died. Behind me, I heard them coming closer,

and they must have seen me, for they opened fire again, and I heard the beat of horses' hooves upon my right and left. They were surrounding me upon three sides, and upon the fourth was the great lake. A moment later I was standing upon the edge of the ancient breakwater. while behind me rose the triumphant cries of my pursuers. They had seen me, and they knew that I was theirs. At length, they thought they knew so. I did not wait for them to come closer, but raising my hands above me I dove head foremost into the cool waters of the lake,

and swimming rapidly beneath the surface, I kept close in the shadows and headed north. I had spent much of my summer life in the water of the river, so that I was as much at home in that. liquid element is in air. But this, of course, the cash guard did not know, for even had they known that Julian the Nye's could swim, they could not at that time have known which prisoner it was who had escaped, and so I think they must have thought what I wanted them to think, that I had chosen self-drowning to recapture. However, I was sure they would search the shore in both

directions, and so I kept to the water after I came to the surface, and when I was sure that no one was directly above me, I swam farther out until I felt there was little danger of being seen from shore, for it was a dark night. And thus I swam on, until I thought I was opposite the mouth of the river, when I turned toward the west searching for it. Luck was with me. I swam directly into it, and a short distance up the sluggish stream before I knew that I was out of the lake. But even then I did not take to the shore, preferring to pass the heart of the ancient city before trusting myself to land. land. At last I came out upon the north bank of the river, which is farthest from the cash-guard barracks, and made my way as swiftly as possible upstream in the direction of my home.

Here, hours later, I found an anxious Hwana awaiting me, for already she had heard what had transpired in the marketplace. I had made my plans, and had soon explained them to Hwana and mother. There was nothing for them but to acquiesce, as only death could be our lot if we remained in our homes another day. I was astonished even that they had not already fallen upon Hwana and mother. As it was, they might come any minute. There was no time to lose. Hasteily wrapping up a few belongings, I took the flag from its hiding place above the mantle and tucked it in my shirt. Then we were ready. Going to the pins, we caught up red lightning and the two mares and three of my best milk goats. These latter we tied, and after Hwana and mother had mounted the mares,

I laid one goat in front of each across a mare's withers, and the third before myself upon red lightning, who did not relish the strange burden, and gave me considerable trouble at first. We rode out upriver, leaving the pins open that the goats might scatter and possibly cover our trail until we could turn off the dusty path beyond Jim's house. We dared not stop to bid Jim and Molly good-bye, lest we be apprehended there by our enemies and bring trouble to our good friends. It was a sad occasion for poor mother, leaving thus her home and those dear neighbors who had been as close to her as her own people. But she was as brave as Juana. Nor once did either of them attempt to dissuade me from the wild scheme I had outlined to them. Instead they encouraged me,

and Juana laid her hand upon my arm as I rode beside her, saying, I would rather that you died thus than we lived on as downtrodden serfs without happiness and without hope. I shall not die, I said, until my work is done at least. And then if die I must, I shall be content to know that I leave a happier country for my fellow men to live in. Amen, whispered Wana. That night, I hid them in the ruins of the old church which we found had been partially burned by the Calcars. For a moment I held them in my arms, my mother and my wife, and then I left them to ride toward the southwest in the coal mines. The mines lie about fifty miles away, those to which our people are sent, and west of south,

according to what I had heard. I had never been to them, but I knew that I must find the bed of an ancient canal and follow it through the district of Joliet and between 15 and 20 miles beyond, where I must turn south, and after passing a large lake I would presently come to the mines. I rode the balance of the night And into the morning Until I commenced to see people astir In the thinly populated country Through which I passed

Then I hid in a wood Through which a stream wound And here found pasture For red lightning and rest for myself I had brought no food Leaving what little bread and cheese We had brought from the house For Mother and Puana

I did not expect to be gone over a week And I knew that with goat's milk And what they had on hand In addition to what they could find growing wild, there would be no danger of starvation before I returned, after which we expected to live in peace and plenty for the rest of our days. My journey was less eventful than I had anticipated. I passed through a few ruined villages and towns of greater or less antiquity, the largest of which was ancient Joliet, which was abandoned during the plague of fifty years ago, the Tevos headquarters

and station being removed directly west a few miles to the banks of a little river. Much of the territory I traversed was covered with thick woods, though here and there were the remnants of clearings that must once have been farms, which were not yet entirely reclaimed by nature. Now and again I passed those gaunt and lonely towers in which the ancients stored the winter feed for their stock. Those that have endured were of concrete, and some showed but little the ravages of time,

other than the dense vines that often covered them from base to capital, while several were in the midst of thick forests with old trees almost entwining them. So quickly does nature reclaim her own when man has been displaced. After I passed Joliette, I had to make inquiries, and this I did boldly of the few men I saw laboring in the tiny fields scattered along my way. They were poor clods, these descendants of ancient America's rich and powerful farming class, those people of olden times, whose selfishness had sought to throw the burden of taxation upon city dwellers, where the ignorant foreign classes were most numerous,

and had thus added their bit to foremending the discontent that had worked the downfall of a glorious nation. They themselves suffered much before they died, but nothing by comparison with the humiliation and degradation of their descendants, an illiterate, degraded, starving race. Early in the second morning I came within sight of the stockade about the mines. Even at a distance I could see that it was a weak, dilapidated thing, and that the sentries pacing along its top were all that held the prisoners within. As a matter of fact, many escaped,

but they were soon hunted down and killed as the farmers in the neighborhood always informed on them, since the commandant at the prison had conceived the fiendish plan of slaying one farmer for every prisoner who escaped and was not recaught. I hid until night, and then cautiously I approached the stockade, leaving red lightning securely tied in the woods. It was no trick to reach the stockade so thoroughly was I hidden by the rank vegetation growing upon the outside. From a place of concealment, I watched this century, a big fellow. But apparently a dull clod who walked with his chin upon his breast,

and with the appearance of being half asleep. The stockade was not high, and the whole construction was similar to that of the prison pen at Chicago, evidently having been designed by the same commandant in years gone by. I could hear the prisoners conversing in the shed beyond the wall, and presently, when one came near to where I listened, I tried to attract his attention by making a hissing sound. After what seemed a long time to me, he heard me. But even then it was some time before he appeared to grasp the idea

that someone was trying to attract his attention. When he did move closer and tried to peer through one of the cracks, But as it was dark outside, he could see nothing. Are you a yank? I asked. If you are, I am a friend. I am a yank, he replied. Did you expect to find a cowcar working in the mines? Do you know a prisoner called Julian the 8th?

I inquired. He seemed to be thinking for a moment, and then he said, I seem to have heard the name. What do you want of him? I want to speak to him. I am his son. Wait, he whispered. I think that I heard a man speak that name today.

I will find out he is nearby. I waited for perhaps ten minutes when I heard someone approaching from the inside, and presently a voice asked if I was still there. Yes, I said. Is that you, father? For I thought that the tones were his. Julian, my son, came to me almost as a sob. What are you doing here?

Briefly I told him, and then I told him. and then of my plan. Have the convicts the courage to attempt it? I asked in conclusion. I do not know, he said, and I could not but note the tone of utter hopelessness in his voice. They would wish to, but here our spirits and our bodies both are broken.

I do not know how many would have the courage to attempt it. Wait, and I will talk with some of them. All are loyal, but just, weak from overwork, starvation, and abuse. I waited for the better part of an hour before he returned. Some will help, he said, from the first, and others if we are successful. Do you think it worth the risk? They will kill you if you fail.

They will kill us all. And what is death to that which you are suffering? I asked. I know, he said. But the worm impaled upon the hook still strife. and hopes for life. Turn back, my son. We can do nothing against them.

I shall not turn back, I whispered. I shall not turn back. I will help you, but I cannot speak for the others. We had spoken only when the century had been at a distance, falling into silence each time he approached the point where we stood. In the intervals of silence I could hear the growing restlessness of the prisoners, and I guessed that what I had said to the first man was being passed around from mouth to mouth within until already the whole adjacent shed was seething with something akin to excitement.

I wondered if it would arouse their spirit sufficiently to carry them through the next ten minutes. If it did, success was assured. Father had told me all that I wanted to know, the location of the guardhouse and the barracks, and the number of cash guard posted here. Only 50 men to guard 5,000. How much more eloquently than words did this fact bespeak the humiliation of the American people, and the utter contempt in which our scurvy masters held us? Fifty men to guard 5,000.

And then I started putting my plan into execution, a mad plan which had only its madness to recommend it. The sentry approached and came opposite where I stood, and I leaped for the eaves as I had leaped for the eve. the eaves of the prison pen at Chicago. Only this time I leaped from the outside, where the eaves are closer to the ground, and so the task was easier. I leaped for them and caught them, and then I scrambled up behind the sentry, and before his dull wits told him there was someone behind him, I was upon his back, and the same fingers that threw a mad bull closed upon his

windpipe. The struggle was brief. He died quickly, and I lowered him to the roof. Then I took his uniform from him and donned it, with his ammunition belt, and I took his bayoneted rifle, and started out upon his post, walking with slow tread, and with my chin upon my breast as he had walked. At the end of my post, I waited for the century I saw coming upon the next, and when he was close to me, I turned back, and he turned back away from me, and then I wheeled and struck him an awful blow upon the head with my rifle. He died more quickly than the other, instantly, I should say. I took his rifle in ammunition from him, and lowered them inside the pin to waiting hands. And then I went on to the next century, and the next, until I had slain five more, and passed

their rifles to the prisoners below. And while I was doing this, five prisoners who had volunteered to father, climbed to the roof of the shed, and stripped the dead men of their uniforms, and donned them. It was all done quietly, and in the black night, none might see what was going on fifty feet away. I had to stop when I came near to the guard. guardhouse. There I turned back, and presently slid into the pin with my accomplices, who had been going among the other prisoners with father, arousing them to mutiny. Now were most of them ready to follow me, for so far my plan had proven successful. With equal quietness we overcame the men at the guardhouse, and then moved on in a silent

body toward the barracks. So sudden, and so unexpected was our attack, that we met with little resistance, and we were almost 5,000 to 40 now. We swarmed in upon them like wild bees upon a foe, and we shot them and bayoneted them, until none remained alive. Not one escaped, and now we were flushed with success so that the most spiritless became a veritable lion for courage. We who had taken the uniforms of the cash guard discarded them for our own garb, as we had no mind to go abroad in the hated livery of our oppressors. That very night we saddled their horses with the 50 saddles that were there, and 50 men rode the balance of the horses bare back.

That made 100 mounted men, and the others were to follow on foot. On to Chicago. On to Chicago was our first slogan. We traveled cautiously, though I had difficulty in making them do so, so intoxicated were they with their first success. I wanted to save the horses, and also I wanted to get as many men into Chicago as possible. So we let the weakest ride,

though I had a time of it getting red lightning to permit another on his sleek back. Some fell out upon the way, from exhaustion or from fear. For the nearer Chicago we approached, the more their courage ebbed. The very thought of the feared calcars and their cash guards took the marrow from the hearts of many. I do not know that one may blame them. for the spirit of man can endure only so much, and when it is broken,

only a miracle can mend it in the same generation. We reached the ruined church a week from the day I left Mother and Poena there, and we reached it with less than 2,000 men, so rapidly had been the desertions in the last few miles before we entered the district. Father and I could scarcely wait to see our loved ones, and so we rode on ahead to greet them, and inside the church we found three dead goats, and a dying woman.

My mother with a knife protruding from her breast. She was still conscious when we entered, and I saw a great light of happiness in her eyes as they fell upon Father and upon me. I looked around for Juana, and my heart stood still, fearing that I would not find her, and fearing that I would.

Mother could still speak, and as we leaned over her and father held her in his arms, she breathed a faint story of what had befallen them. They had lived in peace until that very day When the cash guard had stumbled upon them A large detachment under Ortis himself They had seized them to take them away But mother had had a knife hidden in her clothing

And had utilized it as we saw Rather than suffer the fate she knew awaited them That was all Except that Juana had no knife And Ortis had carried her off I saw Mother die then In father's arms and I helped him bury her after our men came

and we had shown them what the beasts had done though they knew well enough and had suffered themselves enough to know what was to be expected of the swine. End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of the Moon Men by Edgar Rice Burroughs This Libervox recording is in the public domain Read by Ben Tucker

Chapter 10 The Butcher We went on then, Father and I, filled with grief and bitterness and hatred even greater than we had known before. We marched toward the marketplace of our district, and on the way we stopped at Jim's and he joined us. Molly wept when she heard what had befallen mother and Juana, but presently she controlled herself and urged us on,

and Jim with us, though Jim needed no urging. She kissed him goodbye with tears and pride mingled in her eyes, and all he said was, Goodbye, girl. Keep your knife with you always. And so we rode away with Mollies, May the saints be with you in our ears. Once again we stopped at our abandoned goat pens,

and there we dug up the rifle, belt, and ammunition of the soldier father had slain years before. These we gave to Jim. Before we reached the marketplace, our force commenced to dwindle again. Most of them could not brave the terrors of the cash guard upon which they had been fed and whispered story and in actual experience since infancy. I do not say that these men were cowards.

I do not believe that they were cowards, and yet they acted like cowards. It may be that a lifetime of training had taught them so thoroughly to flee the cash guard that now no amount of urging could make them face it. The terror had become instinctive, as is man's natural revulsion for snakes. They could not face the cash-guard. any more than some men can touch a rattler, even though it may be dead. It was market day, and the place was crowded.

I had divided my force, so that we marched in from two directions and wide fronts, about 500 men in each party, and surrounded the marketplace. As there were only a few men from our district among us, I'd given orders that there was to be no killing other than that of cash guards, until we who knew the population could pick out the right men. When the nearest people first saw us, they did not know what to make of it. So complete was the surprise. Never in their lives had they seen men of their own class armed,

and there were a hundred of us mounted. Across the plaza, a handful of cash guard were lolling in front of Hoffmeyer's office. They saw my party first, as the other was coming up from behind them, and they mounted and came toward us. At the same moment I drew the flag from my breast and waving it above my head, urged red lightning forward, shouting as I rose, Death to the cash guard, death to the Calcars! And then of a sudden, the cash guard seemed to realize

that they were confronted by an actual force of armed men, and their true color became apparent, all yellow. They turned to flee, only to see another force behind them. The people had now caught the idea and the spirit of our purpose, and they flocked around us, shouting, screaming, laughing, crying, Death to the cash guard, death to the calcars, the flag! I heard more than once, and, Oh, glory! From some who, like myself, had not been permitted to forget. A dozen men rushed to my side, and grasping the streaming banner, pressed it to their lips, while tears coursed down their cheeks.

The flag! The flag! They cried, the flag of our fathers! It was then, before a shot had been fired, that one of the cash guard rode toward me with a white cloth above his head. I recognized him immediately as the youth who had brought the cruel order to mother and who had shown sorrow for the acts of his superiors. "'Do not kill us,' he said, "'and we will join with you. Many of the cash guard at the barracks will join too.' And so the dozen soldiers in the marketplace joined us, and a woman ran from her house carrying the head of a man, stuck upon a short pole, and she screamed forth her hatred against

the calcars, the hatred that was the common bond between us all. As she came closer, I saw that it was Thav's woman, and the head upon the short pole was the head of Thav. That was the beginning. That was the little spark that was needed. Like maniacs, laughing horribly the people charged the houses of the Calcars and dragged them forth to death. Above the shrieking and the groans and the din could be heard shouts for the flag and the names of loved ones who were being avenged. more than once I heard the name of Samuels the Jew never was a man more thoroughly avenged than he that day Dennis Corrigan was with us freed from the minds and Betty Worth his woman found him there

his arms read to the elbows with the blood of our oppressors she had never thought to see him alive and when she heard his story and of how they had escaped she ran to me and nearly pulled me from red lightning's back trying to hug and kiss me it was she who started the people shouting for me until a mad, swirling mob of joy-crazed people surrounded me. I tried to quiet them, for I knew that this was no way in which to forward our cause,

and finally I succeeded in winning a partial silence. And then I told them that this madness must cease, that we had not yet succeeded, that we had won only a single small district, and that we must go forward quietly and in accordance with a sensible plan if we were to be victorious. Remember, I admonished them, that there are still thousands of armed men in the city,

and that we must overthrow them all. And then there are other thousands that the 24 will throw in upon us, for they will not surrender this territory until they are hopelessly defeated from here to Washington. And that will require months, and maybe years. They quieted down a little then, and we formed plans for marching immediately upon the barrens, that we might take to cash guard by surprise.

It was about this time that Father found sore and killed him. I told you, said Father, just before he ran a bayonet through the tax collector, that someday I would have my little joke and this is the day. Then a man dragged Hoffmeyer from some hiding place, and the people literally tore him to pieces. And that started the pandemonium all over again. There were cries of, On to the barracks and kill the cash guard,

followed by a concerted movement toward the lakefront. On the way, our numbers were increased by volunteers from every house, either fighting men and women from the houses of our class, or bloody heads from the houses of the Calcars, for we carried them all with us, waving above us upon the ends of poles, and at the head of all, I rode with old glory, now waving from a tall staff.

I tried to maintain some semblance of order, but it was impossible. And so we streamed along, screaming and killing, laughing and crying, each as the mood claimed him. The women seemed the maddest, possibly because they had suffered most, and Thav's woman led them. I saw others there with one hand, clutching a suckling baby to a bare breast, while the other held aloft a dripping head of a cowcar, an informer or a spy. One could not blame them, who knew the lives of terror and hopelessness they had led. They and their mothers before them.

We had just crossed the new bridge over the river into the heart of the great ruined city, when the cash guard fell upon us from ambush with their full strength. They were poorly disciplined, but they were armed, while we were not disciplined at all nor scarcely armed. We were nothing but an angry mob into which they poured volley after volley at close range. Men, women, and babies went down, and many turned and fled, but there were others who rushed forward and grappled hand to hand with the cash guard. "'tearing their rifles from them.

"'We who were mounted, rode among them. "'I could not carry the flag and fight, "'so I took it from the staff and replaced it inside my shirt, "'and then I clubbed my rifle, "'and guiding red lightning with my knees, "'I drove into them. "'God of our fathers, but it was a pretty fight. "'If I had known that I was to die the next minute,

"'I would have died gladly for the joy I had in those few minutes. "'Down they went before me, "'to the right and to the left, "'reeling from their saddles with crushed skulls and broken bodies, for wherever I hit them made no difference in the result. They died if they came within reach of my rifle, which was soon only a bent and twisted tube of bloody metal. And so I rose completely through them,

with a handful of men behind me. We turned then to ride back over the crumbling ruins that were in this spot only mounds of debris. And from the elevation of one of these hillocks of the dead passed, I saw the battle down by the river, and a great lump came into my throat. It was all over. All but the bloody massacre. My poor mob had turned at last to flee.

They were jammed and stuck upon the narrow bridge and the cash guard were firing volleys into that wedged mass of human flesh. Hundreds were leaping into the river only to be shot from the banks by the soldiers. Twenty-five mounted men surrounded me. All that was left of my fighting force. And at least two thousand cash guards lay between us in the river. Even could we have fought our way back, we could have done nothing to save the day, or our own people. We were doomed to die, but we decided to inflict more punishment before we died. I had in mind Juana in the clutches of Ortis.

Not once had the frightful thought left my consciousness, and so I told them that I would ride to headquarters and search for her, and they said they would ride with me, and that we would slay whom we could before the soldiers returned. Our dream had vanished. Our hopes were dead. In silence we rode through the streets toward the barracks. The cash guard had not come over to our side as we had hoped. Possibly they would have come had we had some measure of success in the city.

But there could be no success against armed troops for an undisciplined mob of men, women, and children. I realized too late that we had not planned sufficiently. Yet we might have, one, had not someone escaped and ridden ahead to notify the cash guard. could we have taken them by surprise in the barracks, the outcome might have been what it had been in the marketplaces through which we had passed? I had realized our weakness and the fact that if we took time to plan and arrange, some spy or informer would have divulged all to the authorities long before we could have put our plans into execution. Really, there had been no other way than to trust to a surprise attack and the impetuosity of our first blow. I looked about among my followers as we rode along. Jim was there, but not father.

I never saw him again. He probably fell in the battle at the new bridge. Warren Colby, the blacksmith and preacher, rode at my side covered with blood, his own and cash guard. Dennis Corrigan was there too. We rode right into the barrack yard, for with their lack of discipline and military efficiency,

they had sent their whole force against us, with the exception of a few men, who remained to guard the prisoners in a handful at headquarters building. The latter we overcame with scarce a struggle, and from one whom I took prisoner I learned where the sleeping quarters of Orta's were located. Telling my men that our work was done, I ordered them to scatter and escape as best they might. But they said that they would remain with me. I told them that the business I was on was such that I might,

must handle it alone, and I asked them to go and free the prisoners while I searched for Hwana. They said that they would wait for me outside, and so we parted. Ortis's quarters were on the second floor of the building, in the east wing, and I had no difficulty in finding them. As I approached the door, I heard the sound of voices raised in anger within, and of rapid movement as though someone was running hither and thither across the floor. I recognized Ortiz's voice. He was swearing fouly, and then I heard a woman scream and I knew it was Juana. I tried the door and found it locked.

It was a massive door, such as the ancients built in their great public buildings, such as this had originally been, and I doubted my ability to force it. I was mad with apprehension and lust for revenge, and if maniacs gained tenfold in strength when the madness is upon them, I must have been a maniac that moment, for when after stepping back a few feet I hurled myself against the door, the shot bolt tore through the splintering frame, and the barrier swung in upon its hinges with a loud bang.

Before me in the center of the room stood Orta's with Hanna in his clutches. He had her partially upon a table, and with one hairy hand he was choking her. He looked up at the noise of my sudden entry, and when he saw me he went white and dropped Hwana, at the same time whipping a pistol from its holster at his side. Hwana saw me too, and springing for his arm dragged it down as he pulled the trigger, so that the bullet went harmlessly into the floor. Before he could shake her off, I was upon him, and had wrenched the weapon from his grasp.

I held him in one hand as one might a little child. He was utterly helpless in my grip, and I asked Hwana if he had wronged her. Not yet, she said. He just came in after sending the cash guard away. something has happened. There's going to be a battle, but he sneaked back to the safety of his quarters. And then she seemed to notice for the first time that I was covered with blood. There has been a battle, she cried, and you've been in it. I told her that I had, and that I would tell her about it,

after I had finished Ortis. He commenced to plead and then to whimper. He promised me freedom and immunity from punishment and persecution, if I would let him live. He promised never to bother Hwana again, and to give us his protection and assistance. He would have promised me the sun and the moon and all the little stars had he thought I wished them, but I wished only one thing just then, and I told him so, to see him die. Had you wronged her, I said, you would have died a slow and terrible death.

But I came in time to save her, and so you are saved that suffering. When he realized that nothing could save him, he began to weep, and his knees shook so that he could not stand, and I had to hold him from the floor with one hand, and with my other clenched, I dealt him a single, terrific blow between the eyes, a blow that broke his neck and crushed his skull. Then I dropped him to the floor and took Juana in my arms. Quickly as we walked toward the entrance of the building, I told her of all that had transpired, since we parted, and that now she would be left alone in the world for a while until I could join her. I told her where to go and await me in a forgotten spot I had discovered upon the banks of the

old canal on my journey to the mines. She cried and clung to me, begging to remain with me, but I knew it could not be, for already I could hear fighting in the yard below. We would be fortunate indeed if one of us escaped. At last she promised on condition that I would join her immediately, which of course I had intended doing as soon as I had the chance. Red Lightning stood where I had left him before the door. A company of Cashguard, evidently returning from the battle, were engaged with my little band that was slowly falling back toward the headquarters building. There was no time to be lost if Hwana was to escape.

I lifted her to Red Lightning's back from where she stooped, and threw her dear arms about my neck, covering my lips with kisses. "'Come back to me soon,' she begged. "'I need you so, and it will not be long before there will be another to need you too.' I pressed her close to my breast. "'And if I do not come back,' I said, "'take this and give it to my son to guard as his father's before him have.' And I placed the flag in her hands.

The bullets were singing around us, and I had made her go, watching her as the noble horse raced swiftly across the parade, and disappeared among the ruins to the west. Then I turned to the fighting to find but ten men left to me. Oren Colby was dead, and Dennis Corrigan. Jim was left and nine others. We fought as best we could, but we were cornered now, for other guards were streaming on to the parade from other directions,

and our ammunition was expended. They rushed us then, 20 to 1, and though we did the best we could, they overwhelmed us. Lucky Jim was killed instantly, but I was only stunned by a blow upon the head. That night they tried me before a court-martial, and tortured me in an effort to make me divulge the names of my accomplices. But there were none left alive that I knew of, even had I wished to betray them. As it was, I just refused to speak. I never spoke again after bidding Hwana goodbye, other than the few words of encouragement that passed.

between those of us who remained fighting to the last. Early the next morning, I was led forth to the butcher. I recall every detail up to the moment the knife touched my throat. There was a slight stinging sensation, followed instantly by oblivion. It was broad daylight when he finished. So quickly had the night sped, and I could see by the light from the east window of the room where we sat that his face looked drawn and pinched,

and that even then he was suffering the sorrows and disappointments of the bitter, hopeless life he had just described. I rose to retire. That is all? I asked. Yes, he replied. That is all of that incarnation. But you recall another? I insisted. He only smiled as I was closing the door.

End of Chapter 10. End of the moon. by Edgar Rice Burroughs.