Nervous little twitters began to emanate from the women--the guide's voice rose reassuringly: "Keep close together, ladies and gentlemen.

We are going upstairs now to--" Jimmie Dale hugged back against the wall, sidled along it, and like a shadow slipped down to the end of the hall.

The scuffling of two dozen pairs of feet mounting the creaky staircase drowned the slight sound as he cautiously opened a door; the darkness lay black, impenetrable, along the hall.

And then, as cautiously as he had opened it, he closed the door behind him, and stood for an instant listening at the head of a ladder-like stairway, his automatic in his hand now.

It was familiar ground to Larry the Bat.