Ivan Stasha pitched into Tom. The two wrestled, straining muscle against muscle, until they collided with a small table and fell. It splintered under their weight. Tokatyan tripped Bud, grappled with him, and they rolled over and over on the floor.
       The battle raged fiercely for a few moments. Then Demetri Stasha picked up a big log. He gripped Tom by the back of the collar.
       "Stop!" he growled, raising the log menacingly. "Do not hurt my brother!"
       Outnumbered, and seeing the futility of further resistance, Tom and Bud surrendered. The three Brungarians tied them with rope, and then held an animated council of war in their own language.
       "How did those boys know where to find us?" Ivan Stasha demanded furiously.
       Tokatyan became sulky. "Don't look at me. I never mentioned Tierra del Fuego. Come to think of it, you're the only one who did. Maybe they overheard you."
       "This isn't getting us anywhere," growled Demetri Stasha. "If young Swift knew where we were, his smart father probably does too. We're likely to have visitors dropping in on us, including the Chilean police."
       "We'll have to change our plans," the Tall One said. "This place is too hot for us now. What shall we do?"
       "Stay here a moment," Ivan Stasha replied. "I'll go out to the plane and radio headquarters to reroute our scientific equipment to our other hideout."
       He disappeared through the door. Ten minutes later he was back. "Everything is arranged. We'll shift our base of operations."
       Tokatyan gestured toward Tom and Bud. "What do we do with these two snoops?"
       "Take them with us," Ivan replied. "Special plans are being made for them."
       The three Brungarians carried their prisoners to the plane and loaded them into the passenger section. The aircraft roared across the open filed then rose sharply into the air. Tom twisted at the ropes around his wrists. "The way they've trussed us up, I feel like a chicken ready for the spit," he whispered to Bud, who was lying beside him. "Can you hear what those three guys in the cockpit are saying?"
       "Something about an estancia in Magallanes. Make sense to you?"
       "It must mean they're taking us to a sheep ranch on the Strait of Magellan."
       The plane began to lose speed and altitude. It came down for a bumpy landing. Before the aircraft stopped rolling, Tokatyan clambered into the back and pulled a couple of blankets from under a seat.
       "You two are good at figuring things out," the Tall One sneered. "See if you can figure out where you are."
       He three the blankets over their heads and tied them in place with string. Half-smothered, the boys were roughly lifted, carried outside, transported into a building, and dropped onto a wooden floor.
       Deft hands unknotted the strings of the two blankets and they were jerked off. The boys stared into the face of a lynx-eyed man with a black beard kneeling beside them.
       Captain Igor Svornin!
       "How's your spaceship, Captain?" Tom asked nonchalantly.
       Bud added, "Flying again after your visit to the Swift space station?"
       Svornin gave an ugly smile. "Now it is my turn to play host to you. Rest assured, I shall be more wary than you were. I have planned something very special for such honored guests. Nothing will interrupt the festivities. We are at a sheep ranch used by us Brungarians as a secret service base."
       "So, the truth finally comes out," Tom said. "You're a secret agent for your government." Tom saw the glowing carrier standing on a rough wooden table.
       "But of course," Svornin answered. "I am commandant of one section of our spy network. My assignment was to get a sample of the P-E. Unfortunately our scientists were not able to capture one. However, your ghost log was most helpful in revealing your research. I decided to let you capture a P-E for us. And you did!"
       "Tell us about the mastodon," Bud suggested. "What part does the Ice Age monster play in your little scheme?"
       "You should ask Tokatyan. His team had that assignment. They didn't do a very good job. It was extremely difficult to train that Indian to play the part of the Snowman of the Andes. And after all our labor, Tokatyan allowed you to take the mastodon away from us."
       Svornin threw a disdainful glance at the Tall One.
       "Captain, I was prepared for such an accident," Tokatyan said coldly. "I had the Sky Queen's grappling system and lifting power sabotaged just in case. And my foresight was rewarded. The mastodon is at the bottom of the Pacific waiting for our sub."
       "Are you sure you will not mismanage the project again?" Svornin asked sarcastically. "Might not the senior Swift snatch the beast from under your nose? Remember, our spies report he is looking for it in that remarkable Swift jetmarine."
       "The Sea Dart doesn't matter," Tokatyan insisted. "No underwater craft can withstand the force of the new secret weapon we have aboard our sub."
       Tom winced. What danger might his father be heading into in the depths of the ocean? The two Brungarians walked away.
       Tom and Bud looked around. They were in the main room of a large sheep station. Through the window on the opposite wall they could see a large flock of sheep grazing on top of a green hill. Heavy logs blazed in a stone fireplace.
       The Brungarians sat down at a long wooden table near one end, and began to devour a meal that had been grilled over the fire by the cook at the ranch.
       "Obviously, we're not the men who came to dinner, Bud," murmured tom. "I could eat a horse, not to mention those lamb chops they're consuming."
       "I could even do with a generous helping of Chow's leftover mushrooms, Tom. But let's not give these men the satisfaction of knowing we're hungry."
       The boys tried to turn their minds to things other than food during the remainder of the meal. They were relieved when it ended. Finally, the diners stood up, and the scraps were removed by a servant.
       "Get those two Americans ready for a journey," Svornin ordered. "I am taking them to a special place I have been thinking about ever since I learned we had captured them."
       Tokatyan looked doubtful. "What place, Captain? You haven't told us what or where it is."
       Svornin glared as he answered, "It is a place from which they will not return, I promise you."
       "I don't like the idea, Captain," the Tall One insisted. "I remember how Voss betrayed us. This time I would like to do the job myself. If I dispose of them, I'll know they're gone for good."
       "If I should permit you to watch what I do, will that satisfy you, Tokatyan?"
       "Certainly, Captain."
       "All right. The Stasha brothers can come too. Have six horses saddled," Svornin commanded a member of the staff. "We are going through rough country, too rough for an automobile."
       Ivan Stasha tapped the glowing cube container. "Shall we leave this galaxy ghost here at the ranch until we get back?"
       "That would be foolhardy," his brother replied. "The ghost could be sold for a princely sum. High bidders would come from all the nations disturbed by Swift's foolish report of an impending invasion of Photo-Essence from outer space."
       "Besides," Tokatyan put in, "we cannot trust the staff at this ranch. Any one of them might abscond with the P-E and offer it for sale."
       "We will take the case with us, the," Svornin decided. "I know where we can hide it without fear of its disappearing."
       Four members of the ranch staff were summoned to untie the boys' feat and push Tom and Bud outside. They were placed in the saddles of two horses. Blankets were thrown over their heads to keep them from seeing. The creak of leather indicated that the Brungarians had mounted. Svornin told the others to follow him into an adjoining pasture. Presently the bleating of sheep became so loud the boys knew that it must be a flock of hundreds. The horses were pulled to a halt.
       "See here!" Svornin said. "This will hold the cube until we want it."
       Hoofbeats told Tom and Bud that their enemies were gathering for an inspection of the hiding place.


       "I believe you're right, Captain," the Tall One agreed. He was echoed by the Stasha brothers, who said they could leave the ghost there until the arrival of their scientific equipment.
       There was a sound of fumbling with the case, then a backing of horses, and the cavalcade resumed its journey at a rapid canter.
       After an hour's ride, Svornin reined in his mount. Tom and Bud were pulled down, and Tokatyan yanked off the blankets. The Stashas carefully trussed up the boys again, and they were deposited on the ground.
       The frigid wind cut the boys to the bone. For mile after mile nothing but scrub vegetation met the eye.
       Svornin sardonically smiled at his captives. "Do not bother calling for help. There is no one close enough to hear. You are on the pampas, not far from the Argentine border, and miles from the nearest habitation.
       "Those are your only neighbors," he added, and pointed at some huge birds circling lazily overhead in the sunlight.
       "They are caranchos," Tokatyan said. "South American vultures. They are among the most dreaded of the continent's carnivorous species, and are hunting for prey. When you die––"
       Svornin turned in the saddle. "Good-by, Swift," he said with a mocking bow. "Good-by, Barclay. It touches me that we will never meet again."
       Reining his horse back on its haunches, he wheeled and galloped off. Tokatyan, the Stasha brothers, and the boys' horses followed. The sound of the animals' hoofbeats diminished and ceased long before their figures disappeared beyond the horizon.
       Silence fell over the pampas except for the wind beating through the scrub. Every few seconds a dark shadow crossed the spot where Tom and Bud lay, famished, thirsty, and exhausted. The huge-winged caranchos were flying between them and the sun. Squinting up at them, the boys could see their sharp beaks.
       Tom repressed a shiver. He had read about these birds. They were known to peck out the eyes of a weak lamb or sheep. They attacked any animal which they found dying on the ground.
       As Tom and Bud watched in horror, the loathsome vultures began to circle lower and lower toward them!