d his commandership to his merits, and he was very
conscious of his great responsibility.

"We have plenty of room on the ship," he persisted. "There weren't many
left to go. We could take you easily enough, you know."

Johnson made a negative sign again. The rays of the sun beating full
upon his head made apparent the grey that usually blended into the
still-thick blond hair. Yet, though past youth, he was far from being an
old man. "I've made my decision," he said, remembering that anger now
was pointless.

"If it's--if you're just too proud to change your mind," the young
commander said, less certainly, "I'm sure everyone will understand
if ... if ..."

Johnson smiled. "No, it's just that I want to stay--that's all."

But the commander's clear blue eyes were still baffled, uneasy, as
though he felt he had not done the utmost that duty--not duty to the
service but to humanity--required. That was the trouble with people,
Johnson thought: when they were most well-meaning they became most
troublesome.

Clifford lowered his voice to an appropriately funeral hush, as a fresh
thought obviously struck him. "I know, of course, that your loved ones
are buried here and perhaps you feel it's your duty to stay with
them...?"

At this Johnson almost forgot that anger no longer had any validity. By
"loved ones" Clifford undoubtedly had meant Elinor and Paul. It was true
that Johnson had had a certain affection for his wife and son when they
were alive; now that they were dead they represented an episode in his
life that had not, perhaps, been unpleasant, but was certainly over and
done with now.

Did Clifford think _that_ was his reason for remaining? Why, he must
believe Johnson to be the most sentimental man on Earth. "And, come to
think of it," Johnson said to himself, amused, "I am--or soon will
be--just that."

The commander was still unconsciously pursuing the same train of
thought. "It does seem incredible," he said in a burst of boyish candor
that did not become him, for he was not that young, "that you'd want to
stay alone on a whole planet. I mean to say--entirely alone.... There'll
never be another ship, you know--at least not in your lifetime."

Johnson knew what the other man was thinking. If there'd been a woman
with Johnson now, Clifford might have been able to understand a little
better how the other could stick by his decision.

Johnson wriggled, as sweat oozed stickily down his back. "For God's
sake