The men in the corridor turned into the room almost immediately, so soon, in fact, that it seemed to me that they must have seen me; but evidently they had not, for they crossed directly to the door to the inner chamber, which one of them threw open.

From my hiding-place I could see this man plainly and also into the room beyond, while the shadow of the cupboard hid me from detection.

What I saw beyond that door gave me something to think about. There was a large room in the center of which was a great table, around which were seated at least fifty men—fifty of the toughest-looking customers that I have ever seen gathered together. At the head of the table was a huge man whom I knew at once to be Ur Jan. He was a very large man, but well proportioned; and I could tell at a glance that he must be a most formidable fighter.

The man who had thrown open the door I could see also, but I could not see his companion or companions as they were hidden from me by the cupboard.

Ur Jan had looked up as the door opened. “What now?” he demanded. “Who have you with you?” and then, “Oh, I recognize him.”

“He has a message for you, Ur Jan,” said the man at the door. “He said it was a most urgent message, or I would not have brought him here.”

“Let him come in,” said Ur Jan. “We will see what he wants, and you return to your post.”

“Go on in,” said the man, turning to his companion behind him, “and pray to your first ancestor that your message interests Ur Jan; as otherwise you will not come out of that room again on your own feet.”

He stood aside and I saw a man pass him and enter the room. It was Rapas the Rat.

Just seeing his back as he approached Ur Jan told me that he was nervous and terrified. I wondered what could have brought him here, for it was evident that he was not one of the guild. The same question evidently puzzled Ur Jan, as his next words indicated.

“What does Rapas the Ulsio want here?” he demanded.

“I have come as a friend,” replied Rapas. “I have brought word to Ur Jan that he has long wanted.”

“The best word that you could bring to me would be that someone had slit your dirty throat,” growled Ur Jan.

Rapas laughed—it was a rather weak and nervous laugh.

“The great Ur Jan likes his little joke,” mumbled Rapas meekly.

The brute at the head of the table leaped to his feet and brought his clenched fist down heavily upon the solid sorapus wood top.

“What makes you think I joke, you miserable little slit-throat? But you had better laugh while you can, for if you haven’t some important word for me, if you have come here where it is forbidden that outsiders come, if you have interrupted this meeting for no good reason, I’ll put a new mouth in your throat; but you won’t be able to laugh through it.”

“I just wanted to do you a favor,” pleaded Rapas. “I was sure that you would like to have the information that I bring, or I would not have come.”

“Well, quick! out with it, what is it?”

“I know who does Fal Sivas’s killing.”

Ur Jan laughed. It was rather a nasty laugh. “So do I,” he bellowed; “it is Rapas the Ulsio.”

“No, no, Ur Jan,” cried Rapas, “you wrong me. Listen, Ur Jan.”

“You have been seen entering and leaving the house of Fal Sivas,” accused the assassin chief. “You are in his employ; and for what purpose would he employ such as you, unless it was to do his killing for him?”

“Yes, I went to the house of Fal Sivas. I went there often. He employed me as his bodyguard, but I only took the position so that I might spy upon him. Now that I have learned what I went there to learn, I have come straight to you.”

“Well, what did you learn?”

“I have told you. I have learned who does his killing.”

“Well, who is it, if it isn’t you?”

“He has in his employ a stranger to Zodanga—a panthan named Vandor. It is this man who does the killing.”

I could not repress a smile. Every man thinks that he is a great character reader; and when something like this occurs to substantiate his belief, he has reason to be pleased; and the more so because few men are really good judges of character, and it is therefore very seldom that one of us is open to self-congratulation on this score.

I had never trusted Rapas, and from the first I had set him down as a sneak and a traitor. Evidently he was all these.

Ur Jan glowered at him skeptically. “And why do you bring me this information? You are not my friend. You are not one of my people, and as far as I know you are the friend of none of us.”

“But I wish to be,” begged Rapas. “I risked my life to get this information for you because I want to join the guild and serve under the great Ur Jan. If that came to pass, it would be the proudest day of my life. Ur Jan is the greatest man in Zodanga—he is the greatest man on all Barsoom. I want to serve him, and I will serve him faithfully.”

All men are susceptible to flattery, and oftentimes the more ignorant they are, the more susceptible.