marked us.

We stood trembling. And Grantline and his men came bounding up.

A helmeted figure touched me. I saw through the helmet-pane the visage
of a stern-faced, square-jawed, youngish man.

"Grantline? Johnny Grantline?"

"Yes," said his voice at my ear-grid. "I'm Grantline. You're Haljan?
Gregg Haljan?"

They crowded around us. Gripped us to hear our explanations.

Brigands! It was amazing to Johnny Grantline. But the menace was over
now, over as soon as Grantline had realized its existence. As though the
wreck of the _Planetara_ were foreordained by an all-wise Providence,
the brigands' adventure had come to tragedy.

We stood for a time discussing it. Then I drew apart, leaving Snap with
Grantline. And Anita joined me. I held her arm so that we had audiphone
contact.

"Anita, mine."

"Gregg, dear one."

Murmured nothings which mean so much to lovers!

* * * * *

As we stood in the fantastic gloom of the Lunar desolation, with the
blessed Earth-light on us, I sent up a prayer of thankfulness. Not that
a hundred millions of treasure were saved. Not that the attack upon
Grantline had been averted. But only that Anita was given back to me. In
moments of greatest emotion the human mind individualizes. To me, there
was only Anita.

Life is very strange! The gate to the shining garden of our love seemed
swinging wide to let us in. Yet I recall that a vague fear still lay on
me. A premonition?

I felt a touch on my arm. A bloated helmet visor was thrust near my own.
I saw Snap's face peering at me.

"Grantline thinks we should return to the _Planetara_. Might find some
of them alive."

Grantline touched me. "It's only humanity."

"Yes," I said.

We went back. Some ten of us--a line of grotesque figures bounding with
slow, easy strides over the jagged, rock-strewn plain. Our lights danced
before us.

The _Planetara_ came at last into view. My ship. Again that pang swept
me as I saw her. This, her last resting place. She lay here in her open
tomb, shattered, broken, unbreathing. The lights on her were
extinguished. The Erentz system had ceased to pulse--the heart of the
dying ship, for a while beating faintly, but now at rest.

We left the two girls with some of Grantline's men at the admission
port. Snap, Grantline and I, with three others, went inside. There still
seemed to be air, but not enough so that we dared remove our helmets.

It was dark inside the wrec