d
through, slamming it after him.

Quirl picked up a bar that someone had dropped. It was but a matter of
moments to break the lock and pull open the hatch. The hold was
lighted, and empty. In its middle, holding the helpless Lenore, stood
Gore, the electrogun in his hand covering the platform.

"Boy scout to the rescue again!" Gore sneered. He was even more
repulsive than before, with the marks Quirl had left on him in the
last battle. But he was fearless and utterly reckless. "Well, m'lad, I
know when I'm done. And when a fellow's done he don't care what
happens. So here's the lay: When I get out of here, I'll be dead. And
_she'll_ be dead, or you'll wish she was. Get it? She'll be killed,
too, if you jolt me--the shock'll pass to her. And the first man-jack
who crosses that grating'll get his from me. Now then, go ahead and
pull! Goin' to kill us both, or leave her to me?" He laughed
defiantly, like one who counts himself already dead.

Quirl tentatively placed one foot on the platform. Instantly a fat
spark jumped from the metal to his foot, and sent him sprawling into
the tube. He saw Strom coming toward him. He had killed his enemies in
the control room and was now on the hunt for more.

"Thanks for what you did," he grunted. As a forlorn hope, Quirl
explained the situation. Strom smiled a rare smile.

"That's all right," he said mildly. "Quirl, you're a square man, and
I'd rather do something for a square enemy than a false friend. Oh, I
can do it cheaply. The jig's up for me, anyway!"

Quickly he dropped through the door and launched himself. Gore saw him
coming, and Strom's body shuddered as the bolt struck squarely. He
was dead when he hit, but his great weight knocked Gore down.

* * * * *

Quirl had time to jump after him, knocking the wind out of Gore before
he could rise. Lenore picked up Gore's weapon, but dared not use it
for fear of injuring her lover. As the two fighting men circled
warily, seeking openings in this battle that must be fatal to one of
them, they did not see the slight, shadowy figure that dropped down to
them. There was a flash, and Gore slumped, a knife in his back.

"I done it! I done for him!" chattered Sorko. "The dirty, lousy--"

"Come, Lenore, let's get up to the bow before the pirates think of
it." They dashed up the ladder. Some more of the disks were out, and
it was nearly dark. Three sinewy forms pounced on Quirl the moment he
entered