She ran to the doorway, whistled a clear high note down the passage.
Through the hangings came two of the frog-men. She spoke to them
rapidly. They crouched toward us, what certainly was meant for an
amiable grin wrinkling the grotesque muzzles, baring the glistening
rows of needle-teeth. And while I watched them with the fascination
that they never lost for me, the monsters calmly swung one arm around
our knees, lifted us up like babies--and as calmly started to walk
away with us!

"Put me down! Put me down, I say!" The O'Keefe's voice was both
outraged and angry; squinting around I saw him struggling violently to
get to his feet. The _Akka_ only held him tighter, booming
comfortingly, peering down into his flushed face inquiringly.

"But, Larry--darlin'!"--Lakla's tones were--well, maternally
surprised--"you're stiff and sore, and Kra can carry you quite
easily."

"I _won't_ be carried!" sputtered the O'Keefe. "Damn it, Goodwin, there
are such things as the unities even here, an' for a lieutenant of the
Royal Air Force to be picked up an' carted around like a--like a
bundle of rags--it's not discipline! Put me down, ye _omadhaun_, or
I'll poke ye in the snout!" he shouted to his bearer--who only boomed
gently, and stared at the handmaiden, plainly for further
instructions.

"But, Larry--dear!"--Lakla was plainly distressed--"it will _hurt_ you
to walk; and I don't _want_ you to hurt, Larry--darlin'!"