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opening to the avenue opposite her。 She hoped that it might be but the
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figment of an overwrought imagination。
But no！ Now； clearly and distinctly； she saw it move。 It came from
behind the screening shelter of the ersite shaft。
The sudden light of the rising sun fell upon it。 The girl trembled。 The
THING was a huge green warrior！
Swiftly it sprang toward her。 She screamed and tried to flee； but she
had scarce turned toward the palace when a giant hand fell upon her arm；
she was whirled about； and half dragged； half carried toward a huge thoat
that was slowly grazing out of the avenue's mouth on to the ochre moss of
the plaza。
At the same instant she turned her face upward toward the whirring
sound of something above her； and there she saw a swift flier dropping
toward her； the head and shoulders of a man leaning far over the side； but
the man's features were deeply shadowed； so that she did not recognize
them。
Now from behind her came the shouts of her red abductors。 They were
racing madly after him who dared to steal what they already had stolen。
As Thar Ban reached the side of his mount he snatched his long
radium rifle from its boot； and； wheeling； poured three shots into the
oncoming red men。
Such is the uncanny marksmanship of these Martian savages that three
red warriors dropped in their tracks as three projectiles exploded in their
vitals。
The others halted； nor did they dare return the fire for fear of
wounding the girl。
Then Thar Ban vaulted to the back of his thoat； Thuvia of Ptarth still in
his arms； and with a savage cry of triumph disappeared down the black
canyon of the Avenue of Quays between the sullen palaces of forgotten
Aaanthor。
Carthoris' flier had not touched the ground before he had sprung from
its deck to race after the swift thoat； whose eight long legs were sending it
down the avenue at the rate of an express train； but the men of Dusar who
still remained alive had no mind to permit so valuable a capture to escape
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them。
They had lost the girl。 That would be a difficult thing to explain to
Astok； but some leniency might be expected could they carry the Prince of
Helium to their master instead。
So the three who remained set upon Carthoris with their long…swords；
crying to him to surrender； but they might as successfully have cried aloud
to Thuria to cease her mad hurtling through the Barsoomian sky； for
Carthoris of Helium was a true son of the Warlord of Mars and his
incomparable Dejah Thoris。
Carthoris' long…sword had been already in his hand as he leaped from
the deck of the flier； so the instant that he realized the menace of the three
red warriors； he wheeled to face them； meeting their onslaught as only
John Carter himself might have done。
So swift his sword； so mighty and agile his half…earthly muscles； that
one of his opponents was down； crimsoning the ochre moss with his life…
blood； when he had scarce made a single pass at Carthoris。
Now the two remaining Dusarians rushed simultaneously upon the
Heliumite。 Three long…swords clashed and sparkled in the moonlight；
until the great white apes； roused from their slumbers； crept to the
lowering windows of the dead city to view the bloody scene beneath them。
Thrice was Carthoris touched； so that the red blood ran down his face；
blinding him and dyeing his broad chest。 With his free hand he wiped
the gore from his eyes； and with the fighting smile of his father touching
his lips； leaped upon his antagonists with renewed fury。
A single cut of his heavy sword severed the head of one of them； and
then the other； backing away clear of that point of death； turned and fled
toward the palace at his back。
Carthoris made no step to pursue。 He had other concern than the
meting of even well…deserved punishment to strange men who
masqueraded in the metal of his own house； for he had seen that these men
were tricked out in the insignia that marked his personal followers。
Turning quickly toward his flier； he was soon rising from the plaza in
pursuit of Thar Ban。
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The red warrior whom he had put to flight turned in the entrance to the
palace； and； seeing Carthoris' intent； snatched a rifle from those that he
and his fellows had left leaning against the wall as they had rushed out
with drawn swords to prevent the theft of their prisoner。
Few red men are good shots； for the sword is their chosen weapon； so
now as the Dusarian drew bead upon the rising flier； and touched the
button upon his rifle's stock； it was more to chance than proficiency that
he owed the partial success of his aim。
The projectile grazed the flier's side； the opaque coating breaking
sufficiently to permit daylight to strike in upon the powder phial within the
bullet's nose。 There was a sharp explosion。 Carthoris felt his craft reel
drunkenly beneath him； and the engine stopped。
The momentum the air boat had gained carried her on over the city
toward the sea…bottom beyond。
The red warrior in the plaza fired several more shots； none of which
scored。 Then a lofty minaret shut the drifting quarry from his view。
In the distance before him Carthoris could see the green warrior
bearing Thuvia of Ptarth away upon his mighty thoat。 The direction of
his flight was toward the north…west of Aaanthor； where lay a mountainous
country little known to red men。
The Heliumite now gave his attention to his injured craft。 A close
examination revealed the face that one of the buoyancy tanks had been
punctured； but the engine itself was uninjured。
A splinter from the projectile had damaged one of the control levers
beyond the possibility of repair outside a machine shop； but after
considerable tinkering； Carthoris was able to propel his wounde