* * * *

I suppose it was half an hour later that I chanced to be gazing
through a corridor window. The lights along the rocky cliff-edge were
tiny blue spots. The head of the stairway leading down to the abyss of
the crater floor was visible. The bloated figure of Wilks was just
coming up. I watched him for a moment making his rounds. He did not
stop to inspect the lights. That was routine; I thought it queer that
he passed them.

Another minute passed. The figure of Wilks went with slow bounds over
toward the back of the ledge where the glassite shelter housed the
treasure. It was all dark off there. Wilks went into the gloom, but
before I lost sight of him he came back. As though he had changed his
mind he headed for the foot of the staircase which led up the
cliff-face to where, at the peak of the little crater, five hundred
feet above us, the narrow observatory platform was perched. He climbed
with easy bounds, the light on his helmet bobbing in the gloom.

I stood watching. I could not tell why there seemed to be something
queer about Wilks' actions. But I was struck with it, nevertheless. I
watched him disappear over the peak of the summit.

Another minute went by. Wilks did not reappear. I thought I could make
out his light on the platform up there. Then abruptly a tiny white
beam was waving from the observatory platform! It flashed once or
twice, then was extinguished. And now I saw Wilks plainly, standing in
the Earthlight, gazing down.

Queer actions! Had the Earthlight touched him? Or was that a local
signal-call which he had sent out? Why should Wilks be signalling?
What was he doing with a hand-helio? Our watchmen, I knew, had no
reason to carry one.

And to whom could Wilks be signalling across this Lunar desolation?
The answer stabbed at me: to Miko's band!

I waited another moment. No further light. Wilks was still up there!

* * * * *

I went back to the lock entrance. Spare suits and helmets were here
beside the keeper. He gazed at me inquiringly.

"I'm going out, Franck, just for a minute." It struck me that perhaps
I was a meddlesome fool. Wilks, of all Grantline's men, was, I knew,
most in his commander's trust. The signal could have been some part of
this night's ordinary routine, for all I knew.

I was hastily donning an Erentz suit. I added, "Let me out. I just got
the idea Wilks is acting queerly." I laughed. "Maybe the Earthlig