open market for whatever she will bring."
"How can you do this?" I demanded.
"It is my business," he said. "I am a slaver."
"But have you no pity for your pathetic captures?" I asked.
"They deserve no pity," he said. "They are only slaves."
"But what of their happiness?" I asked.
"It is unimportant," he said. "But, if it is of interest to you, no woman is truly happy until she is owned and mastered."
I was silent.
"Free a woman," he said, "and she will try to destroy you. Enslave her, and she will crawl to you on her belly, and beg to lick your sandals."
"Madness!" I cried. "False! False!"
The heavy man smiled at the man behind me. "He seems a typical man of Earth, does he not?" he asked.
"He does, indeed," said the man behind me. I then felt again the draft of fresh air, which then, in a moment, ceased. The other three men then re-entered the room. "The crate is in the van, with the others," said one of them.
I was startled. There must, then, be other girls, too, who were to share the sordid, horrifying fate of Miss Henderson.
I then found myself the center of the attention of the five men. I became suddenly very frightened. I began to sweat. I realized that neither Miss Henderson nor myself had been blindfolded. The men, thus, had not apparently been concerned that we would, at a future time, be able to identify either themselves or the interior of the large structure in which we had found ourselves.
"What-what are you going to do with me?" I asked.
He who had been the driver of the cab now walked about me, until he stood some eight or ten feet in front of me. I saw, then, that he carried a revolver. From his jacket pocket he took a hollow, cylindrical object. He spunt it onto the barrel of the revolver. It was a silencer, which would muffle the report of a pistol.
"What are you going to do with me?" I demanded.
"You have seen too much, and you are of no use to us," said the heavy man.
I tried to struggle to my feet, but two men held me down on the cement.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the revolver, with its silencer. Then I felt the blunt end of the silencer pressing against my left temple.
"Don't shoot me," I begged. "Please!"
"He is not worth a bullet," said the heavy man. "Put him on his knees. Use a wire garrote."
The man who had driven the cab removed the silencer from his revolver. He dropped it back in his pocket and put the revolver in his belt. I was thrown to my knees, two men holding my arms, my hands helpless behind my back in the confining steel cuffs.
The fifth man, the one who had opened the door for the others with the crate, was then behind me. I felt a thin wire suddenly looped about my throat.
"I have another pickup to make tonight," said the fellow who had driven the cab.
"We will meet you on the highway," said the heavy man. "You know where."
He who had driven the cab nodded.
"We are to be at the new point of embarkation at four A.M.," said the heavy man.
"She gets off work at two," said he who had driven the cab. "I will be waiting for her."
"It will be close," said the heavy man, "but proceed. We can strip and inject her, and crate her, in the van."
I felt the wire loop tighten about my throat.
"Please, no, please, don't!" I cried.
"It will be swift," said the heavy man.
"Please, don't kill me!" I begged.
"Do you plead for your life?" asked the heavy man.
"Yes," .I said, "yes, yes!"
"But what are we to do with you?" asked the heavy man.
"Don't kill me, please don't kill me," I begged. I squirmed on my knees, the wire on my throat.
The heavy man looked down at me, on my knees, helpless, before him.
"Please," I said. "Please!"
"Behold the typical man of Earth," said the heavy man.
"We are not all such weaklings and cowards," said one of the men.
"That is true," admitted the heavy man. Then he looked down at me. "Is there any hope," he asked, "for males, not men, such as you?"
"I do not understand," I stammered.
"How I despise your sort," he said, "fools,
"How can you do this?" I demanded.
"It is my business," he said. "I am a slaver."
"But have you no pity for your pathetic captures?" I asked.
"They deserve no pity," he said. "They are only slaves."
"But what of their happiness?" I asked.
"It is unimportant," he said. "But, if it is of interest to you, no woman is truly happy until she is owned and mastered."
I was silent.
"Free a woman," he said, "and she will try to destroy you. Enslave her, and she will crawl to you on her belly, and beg to lick your sandals."
"Madness!" I cried. "False! False!"
The heavy man smiled at the man behind me. "He seems a typical man of Earth, does he not?" he asked.
"He does, indeed," said the man behind me. I then felt again the draft of fresh air, which then, in a moment, ceased. The other three men then re-entered the room. "The crate is in the van, with the others," said one of them.
I was startled. There must, then, be other girls, too, who were to share the sordid, horrifying fate of Miss Henderson.
I then found myself the center of the attention of the five men. I became suddenly very frightened. I began to sweat. I realized that neither Miss Henderson nor myself had been blindfolded. The men, thus, had not apparently been concerned that we would, at a future time, be able to identify either themselves or the interior of the large structure in which we had found ourselves.
"What-what are you going to do with me?" I asked.
He who had been the driver of the cab now walked about me, until he stood some eight or ten feet in front of me. I saw, then, that he carried a revolver. From his jacket pocket he took a hollow, cylindrical object. He spunt it onto the barrel of the revolver. It was a silencer, which would muffle the report of a pistol.
"What are you going to do with me?" I demanded.
"You have seen too much, and you are of no use to us," said the heavy man.
I tried to struggle to my feet, but two men held me down on the cement.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the revolver, with its silencer. Then I felt the blunt end of the silencer pressing against my left temple.
"Don't shoot me," I begged. "Please!"
"He is not worth a bullet," said the heavy man. "Put him on his knees. Use a wire garrote."
The man who had driven the cab removed the silencer from his revolver. He dropped it back in his pocket and put the revolver in his belt. I was thrown to my knees, two men holding my arms, my hands helpless behind my back in the confining steel cuffs.
The fifth man, the one who had opened the door for the others with the crate, was then behind me. I felt a thin wire suddenly looped about my throat.
"I have another pickup to make tonight," said the fellow who had driven the cab.
"We will meet you on the highway," said the heavy man. "You know where."
He who had driven the cab nodded.
"We are to be at the new point of embarkation at four A.M.," said the heavy man.
"She gets off work at two," said he who had driven the cab. "I will be waiting for her."
"It will be close," said the heavy man, "but proceed. We can strip and inject her, and crate her, in the van."
I felt the wire loop tighten about my throat.
"Please, no, please, don't!" I cried.
"It will be swift," said the heavy man.
"Please, don't kill me!" I begged.
"Do you plead for your life?" asked the heavy man.
"Yes," .I said, "yes, yes!"
"But what are we to do with you?" asked the heavy man.
"Don't kill me, please don't kill me," I begged. I squirmed on my knees, the wire on my throat.
The heavy man looked down at me, on my knees, helpless, before him.
"Please," I said. "Please!"
"Behold the typical man of Earth," said the heavy man.
"We are not all such weaklings and cowards," said one of the men.
"That is true," admitted the heavy man. Then he looked down at me. "Is there any hope," he asked, "for males, not men, such as you?"
"I do not understand," I stammered.
"How I despise your sort," he said, "fools,
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