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Updated: May 22, 2025
It will take them there fast." With a last look around, Targo and his followers disappeared through the back door of the room. An outer door clanged noisily, and the Very Young Man and Aura were left alone in the house. Reoh murdered, Loto stolen! The Very Young Man thought of Lylda and wondered if anything could have happened to her. "Did they speak of your sister?" he asked.
Her breath came fast; she put a hand to her mouth and stifled the cry that rose to her lips. "They will not hurt him, Lylda; that I know. And soon we will have him back." For a moment more her searching eyes stared steadily into his. He heard the whispered words, "My little son with Targo," come slowly from her lips; then with a low, sobbing cry she dropped senseless into his arms.
A shiver of fear ran across him as in a flash he realized this other danger. With a cry, he leaped sidewise, away from the water. Beside him stood a little tree whose bushy top hardly reached his waist. He clutched its trunk with both hands and jerking it from the ground swung it at his enemy's head, meeting him just as he sprang forward. The tree struck Targo a glancing blow upon the shoulder.
It was Targo Targo triumphantly standing with uplifted arms before the people he was to rule. When the din that was raised at his appearance had subsided a little he spoke; one short sentence, and then he paused. There was a moment of indecision in the crowd before it broke into tumultuous cheers. "The king he killed," Oteo said softly, looking at his master's friends with big, frightened eyes.
The Very Young Man waited, breathless. Suddenly he heard Targo laugh a cruel, cynical laugh. Aura shuddered. "And when he has the drug, all of us will he kill. And all in the land too who will not do as he bids." The men were rising, evidently in preparation to leave. Aura continued: "They go now to Orlog all but Targo. A little way from here, up the lake shore, a boat is waiting.
As he stood weak and trembling, looking down at the unconscious form of Targo lying upon the floor, the girl suddenly ran over and stood beside him. Her slim little body came only a little above his shoulder; instinctively he put his arm about her. A voice, calling from outside the room, made the girl look up into his face with new terror.
"But these Targos, except a few they are our own people. And they too are armed. We cannot fight them; we cannot kill them our own people." "We may have to," said the Chemist. "But you see, I did not realize, I could not believe the extent to which this Targo could sway the people. Nor did I at first realize what evils would result if his ideas were carried out.
He looked back at Targo, and saw him larger almost as large now as he was himself. Like a cloak discarded, the Very Young Man's bewilderment dropped from him. He recognized the danger, realized that in another moment this enemy would be irresistibly powerful invincible. His mind was clear now, his nerves steady, his muscles tense.
He knew the only thing he could do; he calculated the chances in a flash of thought. Still staring at the triumphant face of Targo, the Very Young Man jumped to his feet and swiftly bent over the sleeping form of the Chemist. Reaching through the neck of his robe he took out the vial of chemicals, and before his friend was fairly awake had swallowed one of the pills.
She bore up bravely under the news of her father's death, standing with her hand on her husband's arm, and her sorrowful eyes fixed upon the face of the Big Business Man who haltingly told what had befallen them. When he came to a description of the attack on the palace, the death of the king, and the triumph of Targo, the Chemist raised his hands with a hopeless gesture.
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