Gradually consciousness returned. Tom climbed woozily to his feet.
       "Boy, that machine sure carries a punch!" he muttered. "Lucky I didn't get a full dose of electronic juice!"
       As Tom turned to look at the Melt Master, wondering if he had succeeded in putting it out of commission, a growl from the corridor startled him. Tom began to run. When he reached the large chamber, lights from wall lanterns revealed the snowman coming through the entrance toward him!
       Tom retreated from the immensely tall and powerfully built figure. "He's an Indian and at least seven feet tall," Tom estimated.
       The man wore a shaggy costume of white fur with mittens and hood, and white boots. But the face was uncovered. The skin was a deep copper color and the man's wild black eyes glared at Tom like glowing embers.
       The giant advanced with another growl, raising a crude stone hammer in one hand. Tom retreated step by step across the cave with the giant stalking him relentlessly. As Tom's back touched the wall, he could retreat no farther. He was cornered! Tom set himself in a wrestler's stance.


       The snowman took a roundhouse swing with his primitive weapon. Tom ducked under it, twisted past his assailant, and darted into the tunnel leading to the outside.
       Halfway to his goal, he nearly piled into several Brungarians entering through the crack in the rock wall. The huge Indian came pounding down on him from behind.
       "I'm trapped!" Tom murmured.
       Desperately he turned to the left, where an opening into a side tunnel caught his eyes. He raced into the passage and barreled ahead at top speed.
       He could hear his pursuers. The Brungarians shouted furiously. The snowman emitted roars that echoed through the rocky corridor.
       Tom ran faster. His breath came in short gasps. Just when he felt he would collapse and be pounced on by the wild Indian, Tom reached a shallow cave with a wide mouth overlooking the mountain valley.
       Two men were in the cave. Since they had binoculars draped around their necks, Tom figured they must be Brungarian lookouts. They scrambled to their feet.
       Tom rushed past them, leaped off the ledge outside the cave, and landed in a snowbank below. Jumping onto the slope, he ran off.
       The Brungarians shouted in fury. Looking back, Tom saw the huge snowman poised awkwardly on the ledge. Apparently the giant Indian, hampered by his suit, felt he was not agile enough to make the jump to the snowbank.
       As he teetered on the rim, the Brungarian in the lead rushed forward and pushed him violently off the ledge! The snowman hurtled through the air.
       He missed his footing on the snowbank, fell over, and careened down the slope. He gave a shriek of fear as his bulky body skidded toward a steep ledge and tumbled off. The two Brungarian lookouts leaped into the snowbank and went after him as fast as they could in the deep drifts.
       "Now's my chance to escape," Tom said to himself.
       He hastened on until he heard a harsh voice in Spanish uttering dismal cries of terror and pain.
       "Sounds like the snowman," Tom thought. He cut across the slope toward the sound.
       Tom climbed to the top of a boulder and saw his former pursuer lying on a flat outcropping of rock. The giant's head was cut. He was trying to fend off the blows and kicks of the two Brungarian lookouts who had caught up with him.
       Furious, Tom leaped from the boulder. Taking the Brungarians by surprise, he gave one a wallop in the jaw with his left fist, and took care of the second with his right. Both toppled over, fell off the outcropping of rock, and rolled down the slope. Far below, they got up and ran off.
       To their bewildered and frightened victim, Tom said in Spanish, "I am a friend. I will help you get away."
       The man relaxed. Tom gave him some cookies and a drink of chocolate from his Thermos, then bandaged a cut on his head. The big fellow was convinced now that Tom was his friend. He agreed to accompany the young American back to the village.
       "I believe you belong to the original people of Chile," Tom commented as they plodded onward through the snow.
       "I am a Tehuelche," the man said proudly. "My name is Pedro Martinez."
       Tom knew the Tehuelches were an extremely tall Indian race living in Patagonia. They had been there when Magellan sailed through the strait, later named after, on his first voyage to circumnavigate the globe. Struck by the remarkable size of the Indians, Magellan's men, rather short themselves, called the natives "giants."
       "Some of my people moved north into this valley many years ago," the Indian informed him. "I do not know why. Later they all died. I am the only survivor."
       "You must be a hermit," Tom observed.
       "Sí, señor. I am a hermit of the Andes. I live in a hut here in the mountains."
       "How did you become involved with the Brungarians?"
       The big Indian shuddered. "They are devil men!" he cried. "Two weeks ago they discovered my hut. They lay in wait. When I returned that night, they captured me!"
       "And forced you to obey their orders," Tom inferred. "They made you frighten the villagers by posing as the terrible Snowman of the Andes."
       "You wonder why I did it, señor? I was afraid of them. They made hot flames burn in the snow! They had boxes that talked!"
       "Radios," Tom explained. "I understand now. You couldn't do anything else."
       Before they reached the village, Tom asked his companion to remove the white suit. Underneath he wore khaki pants and a tunic. When the two arrived in town, Tom called on the people to gather in the square. Then he introduced Pedro Martinez to them.
       "Pedro is the snowman you were so afraid of. Actually, he is a Chilean Indian like yourselves. He hopes you will accept him as one of you."
       Tom answered the questions that were fired at him in rapid succession. Then he explained about the blue fire and promised to show them later how it worked. The villagers were angry about the hoax.
       "We are grateful to you, Señor Swift," one stated emphatically. "You have removed the fear that has haunted us. Pedro Martinez can stay here as long as he chooses."
       "Perhaps I will go back to my hut in time," Pedro said simply. "But I would like to remain here until Señor Swift chases the Brungarians from the mountains."
       Tom said good-by to Pedro, who thanked him for his help, then rode back on a borrowed horse to the Castilla hacienda. His father and Bud were holding a conference with Castilla and Burkart.
       "Where's Juan Alvarez?" Tom queried.
       Bud chuckled. "He's in the kitchen having a meal. Chow's serving him some choice leftovers––steak and mushrooms!"
       "Tom, what kept you so long?" Mr. Swift asked. "Bud and Juan got here hours ago."
       As Tom recounted everything that had happened, the others listened in amazement. "You caught the snowman!" Bud exclaimed.
       He grinned. "An Indian snowman!"
       Mr. Swift remarked, "So the Brungarians have lost their star actor. Good work, Tom. This has certainly been a profitable day. The big prize is now within our grasp. Tom, tell me how the mastodon looks. Bud said he'd let you be the first to describe it."
       Tom chuckled. "Like an iced elephant. He's in good shape and really mammoth. Right after breakfast tomorrow, I'd better radio the news to the university."
       Shortly after nine o'clock the next morning Tom Contacted the West Coast scientists. They were delighted at the news, but said that they receiving tank was not ready for the mastodon.
       Tom returned to his father and Bud, who were having breakfast. "The scientists say they'll have everything finished in a week or so, but we can't wait that long. We'll have to go ahead without the Transmittaton."
       "The X-raser is ready," Bud commented.
       Mr. Swift nodded. "So is the Sky Queen. I've given the crew orders to take the X-raser to the peak where you fellows found the mastodon cave. What's your plan now, Tom?"
       "Dad, I'm going back to the mastodon cave as soon as I eat."
       "What for?" his father demanded. "Haven't you knocked out the Melt Master?"
       "Only temporarily. Any good Brungarian mechanic can repair the machine. I aim to make it unrepairable."
       Bud grinned. "You mean destroy it? Tom, I'm going with you."
       Tom shook his head. "Negative, fly-boy. I'll have a better chance of getting past those Brungarian watchdogs, and slipping in unnoticed, if I handle this operation alone."
       Seeing hi pal's disappointment, Tom added "Don't fear that you'll miss any of the action. We have lots to do here before that iced mastodon comes out of its hiding place."
       Señor Castilla came in to say Mr. Swift was wanted on his radiotelephone. A few minutes later the inventor returned and sat down at the table. Mr. Swift looked grave.
       "What's up, Dad?" Tom asked.
       "Another message arrived from our space friends during the night."
       "What did it say?"
       "'Ghosts now on moon!'"
       Tom gasped as the meaning of his father's words sank in.
       "The Photo-Essence is planet-hopping toward earth!" he exclaimed.