the open aperture. Dolores led them in with a gesture and a smile, and they reached the massive plated sliding door and stood beneath the yellow lantern, gazing in speechless wonder at the richness of that barrier. And while they waited, mystified and uneasy, from beyond the mountain came the crash of Milo’s gun, and the tremendous discharge reverberated through and through the rock, making the passage where they stood rumble and quake as if the mountain were about to fall.

Their faces went white, and Dolores gave them a reassuring clasp of the hand while she pressed the side-post of the door and started the pulley and weight mechanism that would give them entry.

“Welcome, friends. Enter,” she smiled, standing aside to permit them to pass. And Rupert Vernier and Craik