George had a brief moment to glance around the outer room.
Two walls were lined with bookcases, the other two both contained
doors and were hung with blueprints. A huge table, strewn with
sheafs of paper, stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by
expertly carved straight-backed chairs. Max marched up to one of
the book shelves and pulled out a series of seven books, each at
a different angle. Then he stepped back. A complete section of
the bookshelves swung open to a cavernous passageway concealed
within.
	He was shoved forward into this, Caesar's grip still firm
on him. Max followed, pausing on the other side to push a button
or something. George tried to turn and see exactly how he had
resealed the passage, but Caesar was too skillful a guard to permit
it. He heard the bookcase heaving back into position, grinding
against the stone floor.
	The passageway was torch-lit. Like something out of King
Arthur, thought George, and I'm going to the torture chamber.
Several hundred feet along, the damp passage took a sharp turn.
George stumbled along, half pushed, until Caesar suddenly jerked
him back. He was surprised by the harsh action until he looked
dovm. The floor had just dropped away. There was nothing in
front to walk on. He stared at Caesar, then down at the ground
again. As his eyes finally became used to the dim light, he saw
that the path ended and dropped into a huge pit, the other side
of which he couldn't see. A steep stone staircase was carved
out of the side of the pit. While Max stood at the rim, Caesar
forced George down.
	When they finally reached the small landing at the bottom,
George realized that the pit was actually a good-sized, under-
ground lake. A sturdy raft was anchored at their feet. Leave
it to Max, thought George. Caesar picked him up bodily and
deposited him on the wooden structure, then jumped on himself
and shoved off. Caesar poled them into the middle of the lake
to a concrete island some ten feet above the water level. Big
Caesar escorted him up another shorter flight of stairs, and
George found himself standing on top of a concrete pillar in
which was fixed a wooden stake. He was securely bound to it.
Grinning to himself, Caesar retreated, poling back to the stone
steps, then climbing to the rim of the crater to join Max.
George glanced around him, puzzled. What was Max up to? Some-
thing was moving in the water.
	"Nine crocodiles," called Max, as if he had read the ques-
tion in George's mind. "Nothing original, but they are very
hungry, and I think they will do their job quite nicely."
	George shuddered. He couldn't see Max now, but he could
imagine the sinister grin that he would be wearing. The island
jerked and began to move very slowly downward. 
	"It should take about twenty minutes for the island to 
completely submerge," called Max again. "But, of course, the 
crocodiles will have already started their work by then. I regret
that I cannot stay to watch, but I have work to do. Besides, I
abhore violence." He chuckled. "Bye bye, George."
	George heard the footsteps fading. The island moved ever
downward.
				TO BE CONTINUED NEXT MONTH