at the Hawk was
impatient of detailing his schemes in advance. So he sat in silence,
and sweated, and stared gloomily into the darkness, thinking uneasy
thoughts.

True, he thought, Judd the Kite did not know that Carse and he were
still alive; on the contrary, he was probably convinced that they were
dead; but what good did that do? Surely it would have been better to
have surprised the brigands when boarding, but Captain Carse was
against that. And they were hopelessly outnumbered.

Friday remembered a tale told him once by a survivor of a trading ship
Judd the Kite had destroyed. It wasn't a nice tale. The Kite, so the
report ran, was diabolically ingenious with a long peeling knife, and
could improvise with it for hours. Friday pursued the tack of thought, and
then suddenly began to sweat in earnest. He recalled--horrible!--that Judd
possessed a special dislike for colored gentlemen!...

"Oh, Lawd!" he groaned, unconsciously--to have a cold voice ring in
his earphones.

"Quiet!" it snapped. "They're entering."

The negro threw a switch on his helmet so he could catch outside
noises. His body tensed. From above, unmistakably, had come the hiss
of the inner port-lock door opening. And again, moments later, the
hiss echoed. Twice! The lock could hold three men at a time. That
probably meant that all six had boarded. Friday turned in the darkness
and peered at Carse.

The adventurer without warning flicked on his hand-flash. The beam
fell on the parallel planes of the yellow-covered gravity plates. The
negro, every nerve in him jumping from impatience and suspense, gazed
at them, and suddenly straightened. The mold-like fungus which had
prevented them from getting the ship into control was slowly melting
away. It was dwindling into fine dust!

"Gas," came a soft whisper to him. "As I expected, Judd's cleaning it
out with some sort of gas. But the plates won't work yet--not until
they're polished bright." Unthinking, Friday raised his hand to his
helmet fastenings. "Keep your face-shield shut!" he was ordered
crisply. "The gas would be as fatal as the fungus."

* * * * *

Silence rested tensely over the two men, to be broken at last by the
clump of feet proceeding aft on the deck above.

Carse switched off the light. His voice was but faintly audible.

"Coming down to clean off the dust. He'll have a flash. Hide behind
the truss-work at your side, and when he gets here seize h