Wieroos demanded punishment of the jaal-lu who had so
grievously maltreated them. Fosh-bal-soj listened to their
complaints and then with a sudden sweep of his right hand seized
Bradley by the scruff of the neck and hurled him sprawling
through the doorway upon the floor of the chamber.

So sudden was the assault and so surprising the strength of the
Wieroo that the Englishman was taken completely off his guard.
When he arose, the door was closed, and Fosh-bal-soj was standing
over him, his hideous face contorted into an expression of rage
and hatred.

"Hyena, snake, lizard!" he screamed. "You would dare lay your
low, vile, profaning hands upon even the lowliest of the Wieroos--
the sacred chosen of Luata!"

Bradley was mad, and so he spoke in a very low, calm voice while
a half-smile played across his lips but his cold, gray eyes
were unsmiling.

"What you did to me just now," he said, "--I am going to kill
you for that," and even as he spoke, he launched himself at the
throat of Fosh-bal-soj. The other Wieroo that had been asleep
when Bradley left the chamber had departed, and the two were alone.
Fosh-bal-soj displayed little of the cowardice of those that had
attacked Bradley in the alleyway, but that may have been because
he had so slight opportunity, for Bradley had him by the throat
before he could utter a cry and with his right hand struck him
heavily and repeatedly upon his face and over his heart--ugly,
smashing, short-arm jabs of the sort that take the fight out of