Epworth surveyed the chamber carefully. Behind the throne, about three hundred feet distant, he saw one of the innumerable holes that pierced the crater in all directions. There were few crickets between the throne and this hole, and he inwardly decided that it would be the best way out of the dilemma.

But he did not fool himself. He realized that once inside of that hole he would again be in a corridor of death and darkness.

“Still,” he cogitated, “there is no possible chance of escaping in any other way. We will at least be temporarily freed of cricket masters.”

“Follow me,” he urged in a low voice, “and, Billy, be sure to bring the little girl. Joan can look out for herself.”

Lifting Queen Carza in his arms, holding her pressed tightly against his chest with his right arm, and keeping a tear gun against her head, he slid from the throne, and ran hurriedly across the chamber.

“Stop him!” Toplinsky roared in a loud voice. “St——”

“Dry up, Toplinsky, if you want to keep this girl whole. If you keep your mouth shut I promise you that she shall not be hurt.”

Toplinsky quieted down, and waved the crickets and pigmies back. This enabled the four to gain the dark passage. Unhesitatingly Epworth plunged into the yawning darkness. As he and his companions disappeared Queen Carza sent out a wild shout. She was being dragged along with little regard for her queenly disposition, and she was angry; not afraid. Wicked though she was, she knew no fear.

Her shout was answered by a squealing sound from her pigmy soldiers, and scarcely were they inside of the hole when four pigmies dashed in to aid their queen. They leaped upon the backs of Joan, Billy, and Moawha. This caused Joan to send out a cry of alarm.

Epworth turned to go to Joan’s assistance. He could see the pigmies plainly, although in the darkness they could not see him. As he wheeled, Queen Carza wriggled out of his arms, and started to run. Epworth did not stop her. He wanted to assist Joan; he did not wish to injure the queen. Calmly he permitted the queen to escape.

But Joan did not need his help. Throwing off the pigmy with an effort she darted back into the cave. By this time the struggle had carried all of them back into the darkness, and they were hammering away at each other in the gloom. At least the Americans were in the darkness, but soon the pigmies demonstrated that they could see. This was another surprise to Epworth but he had not time to hunt an explanation at the moment.

Billy, at the outset, knocked his man out and turned to aid Moawha. This was hard to do as he could not distinguish her from the other pigmies in the gloom. The pigmies took advantage of this, and leaping on the girl began to drag her back to the throne room.

“Help!” she screamed, and Billy rushed to her aid, pulling her away from the pigmies who held her.

At this moment the crickets came crowding in from the throne room.

“Run for it!” Epworth shouted.

“No, no,” Moawha answered a little wildly. “Not yet. You will be lost in the cave. Wait for me, and keep the crickets back.”

While they did not understand her purpose, Epworth and Billy stood up side by side to fight. They were now far back in the cave and the gloom was so dense they could barely see; but they knew that the crickets were advancing. They could hear their silent, snoopy hands creeping softly over the stones.

Moawha ran up to Epworth, and slammed something over his head.

“Adjust it to your eyes,” she whispered. “Hasten, and then rush the crickets to stop them, while I cover the heads of the others.”

Epworth was too surprised to speak. A second and he was in terrible darkness, thinking that they would be lost in a hole that wound around in gloom forever; when Moawha left him he could see in front of him a red world—Joan was red, Billy was red, Moawha was red; the crickets, stealing up out of the darkness to leap upon them, were red.

He did not pause to inquire the explanation. Leaping forward he crashed into the crickets with his automatic, showering surprise and fear at them. There were only a few, and when they heard the awful roar of his gun they fled backward to wait for their companions.

“Come,” Moawha cried. “They will be on us in a moment in great numbers.”

Recklessly they fled down the dark passage—dark no longer; but now a stream of crimson and a flash of red. Presently they came to three intersections. It was no time to choose. Behind them came the musical chirps of the crickets, and the whistles of the pigmy men. They darted into the left hand passage, and hurried onward. When they had gone some distance they looked back. The crickets had arrived at the intersection and were dividing into three parties. They intended to take no chances. Faster than race horses they ran on and on; they came to a deep chasm, forty feet wide, and Moawha stopped with a cry of despair.

“Lift her in your arms and jump,” Epworth urged as Billy also paused. “The crickets are behind us.”

“But—but——”

Epworth lifted Joan, ran back a short distance in the cave, and running forward with all of his speed, leaped into the air. He sailed across the chasm like a bird.

“You can do it,” he called back to Billy. “Remember that this gravity is twelve times less than the earth, and that you can do things that you would not dream of on the earth.”

Billy picked Moawha up in his arms. Her heart was beating wildly, and with a gentle hand he smoothed her face. She caught his hand and held it, and he jumped. For a second his heart was in his mouth, and then he dropped by the side of Epworth and Joan.

But the chasm did not stop the crickets. It only served to delay the advance of the Americans, and in a split second they were again chasing down a long corridor as fast as they could go. Now, they discovered that they could outrun the crickets. It was a long straight-a-way, and they could leap many feet in a single jump.

They came to another division of the passage, and Epworth started to take the left hand. Joan stopped him.

“I may be wrong,” she said, “but I seem to have a natural orientation that tells me that our planes are in this direction.”

“All dark holes in the moon look alike to me,” Epworth responded. “We turn to the right to suit you.”

There was a delay, and they were not far down this new cavern when they heard the patter of the crickets behind them. Now the cavern twisted and turned; now the crickets began to chirp their musical notes of triumph.

And their hearts went cold.

Joan stumbled, and Epworth stopped to help her. When he raised her and looked upward he could not see the roof. Ahead he saw a wide open space. When he looked to the right he heard a loud chirping of crickets but could not see them. In other words, in one direction he could see; in the other he could not.

“I can’t understand that,” he exclaimed aloud. “Why can I not see to the right?”

“Because on your left there is darkness, and on the right there is light. The light comes from the great cricket chamber. We have run around in a half circle and are coming again to the hive of crickets.”

As Moawha spoke she lifted the head gear from Epworth’s head.

“I still do not understand.”

“Very simple,” Joan put in impatiently. “You are wearing——”

“Cavern lights,” Moawha explained. “An invention of the Taunan pigmies which enables them to travel through the darkest recesses of the moon. So far my people have not been able to make them.”

Epworth looked around thoughtfully.

“I believe this is where we left our gliders,” he exclaimed hopefully. “Out toward the center of this ashy floor.”

“Joy be!” Joan shouted. “Put on your head gear, and let’s get to them. I am certainly fed up of crickets.”

At this moment there came a warning chirp from their right. They did not wait to ascertain how near the crickets were. Bolting forward Epworth lifted Moawha in his arms and, followed by Joan and Billy, ran rapidly across the deep ashes. They found their gliders almost by a miracle. Joan drew the shoulder straps over her head and shoulders and fastened them around her waist, and turned to Epworth.

“Let me have Moawha,” she entreated. “Billy will be too heavy in my plane.”

Without a word Epworth placed the girl in Joan’s glider, and darted to his own.

“Now, Billy, you and I together.”

While Billy was mounting Epworth’s shoulders, Joan placed Moawha’s arms around her waist and supported her on the bar of the bicycle power.

“All ready,” she called in a whisper. “Let us run together.”

“Circle around in a wide circle until I can find my second flashlight,” Epworth suggested. “And——”

He was interrupted by a rush of crickets that began to swarm around him. But he made no mistake. Finding an opening he ran forward and jumped into the air, and began to work his pedals vigorously.

The glider went forward but did not rise. When he put his feet down to make another start he could not touch ground.

He had jumped off into a bottomless crater, and instead of going up, weighted with Billy, he was going down.

“Julian! Julian!” he heard a faint voice call. “Where are you? We are falling, falling.”

With a dexterous movement Epworth whirled the glider in the direction of Joan’s voice. Presently he saw her, and gave devout thanks for the crater lamps. True she was red; the plane was red; the whole wide open space was red; but he could see her.

“The explanation is simple,” he explained as he drew near her fluttering plane. “Keep the glider on an even keel; never let it turn over. With the weight of the girl you cannot fly but you can make a parachute out of the glider and descend slowly. Take it easy. That is the best we can do at present.”

He did not tell her that his heart was blue with dark forebodings; that he believed that they would never again see the sun or get out of the awful darkness that encompassed them.

The only hope that he could hold out to himself was that they were wearing a peculiar head gear that enabled them to see what was going on around them notwithstanding the darkness. It was little to build hope upon but he grasped it, and determined that he would go down into this strange, terrible world with as much courage as possible.