fore these brown, skinny hands wearied as
quickly as they weary now....

But I have known many women--good women and bad; great women and women
of small souls; kindly women, and women fierce as wild bears are
fierce. Divinity has dealt lavishly with women; has given them an
emotional range far greater than man's. They can sink to depths
unknown to masculinity; they can rise to heights of love and sacrifice
before which man can only stand with reverently bowed head and marvel.

This is a story of a woman--one of those no man could know and not
remember. I make no apologies for her; I pay her no homage. I record
only a not inaccurate account of an adventure of my youth, in which
she played a part; I leave to you the task of judging her.

* * * * *

We were some three days out from Base, as I recall it, on a mission
which promised a welcome interlude in a monotonous sequence of routine
patrols. I was commander then of the _Ertak_, one of the crack ships
of the Service, and assisted by the finest group of officers, I
believe, that any man ever had under him.

I was standing a watch in the navigating room with Hendricks, my
junior officer, when Correy brought us the amazing news.

Correy was my first officer, a square-jawed fighting man if one ever
breathed, a man of action, such as these effete times do not produce.
His eyes were fairly blazing as he came into the room, and his
generous mouth was narrowed into a grim line.

"What's up, Mr. Correy?" I asked apprehensively. "Trouble aboard?"

"Plenty of it, sir!" he snapped. "A stowaway!"

"A stowaway?" I repeated wonderingly. A new experience, but hardly
cause for Correy's obvious anger. "Well, send him below, and tell Miro
to put him to work--the hardest work he can find. We'll make him--"

"_Him?_" blurted Correy. "If it were a him it wouldn't be so bad, sir.
But it's a _she_!"

* * * * *

To understand the full effect of the statement, you'd have to be
steeped in the traditions of the Service. Women are seldom permitted
on board a ship of the Service; despite their many admirable
qualities, women play the very devil with discipline. And here were
we, three days out from Base on a tour of duty which promised more
than a little excitement, with a female stowaway on board!

I felt my own mouth set grimly.

"Where is she, Mr. Correy?" I asked quietly.

"In my quarters, under guard. It was my watch