Raf longed to inspect it, but both aliens brushed by him and pattered
back down the corridor, the discoverer pouring forth a volume of words
to which the officer listened with great intentness. And the Terran
pilot had to hurry to keep up with them.
Something he had seen just before he had left the arena remained in
his mind: a forearm flung out from the supine body of what appeared to
be the largest of the dead things--and on that forearm a bracelet of
metal. Were those things pets! Watchdogs? Surely they were not
intelligent beings able to forge and wear such ornaments of their own
accord. And if they were watchdogs--whom did they serve? He was
inclined to believe that the aliens must be their masters, that the
monsters had been guardians of the treasure, perhaps. But dead
guardians suggested a rifled treasure house. Who and what--?
His mind filled with speculations and questions, Raf trotted behind
the others back to the chamber where they had found the first reptile.
The alien who had brought the discovery to his commander stepped
gingerly through the litter and laid the white rod in a special spot,
apparently the place where it had been found.
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