such remarks as these had not disturbed Bill Kasker. He still acted
as if Joe Buckner was his best friend.

"Are we all here, Billy?" the instructor called.

"All here, sir," Billy Kasker answered.

"Very well. Let's start to the museum. As we go through you may ask any
questions you wish. However, I must insist you stay close to me and not
wander from the group. We will be in no danger, you understand--the
creatures living in the museum have had their fangs pulled most
effectively--but even so we must not take chances."

The instructor led off. He was a fussy little person in a shiny black
coat and a soft hat that was too big for him. No matter how much paper
he stuffed inside the brim, the hat never seemed to fit right. Peering
through glasses that were always threatening to fall off, he moved away
from the Star Institute toward the nearby museum. The class of eight
girls and nine boys followed him.

"Why do we have to go through this old museum?" Joe Buckner complained.
"We already know everything about it."

"It's the rule," Billy Kasker answered. "The faculty thinks we should
see the situation at first hand. Then we will have a better
understanding of it."

Joe Buckner grunted disdainfully. "You're always sucking in with the big
shots and telling everybody what they say."

"You asked me. I tried to tell you." Billy Kasker's voice was still
pleasant. If a slight glint appeared in his eyes, it remained there for
only a second.

The museum was an open area many miles long. It was enclosed by a high,
electrically charged fence along which guard towers were placed at
regular intervals. There was only one gate, to which the instructor led
the class. A captain, resplendent in a brilliant uniform, came out of
the guard house to greet them.

"The graduating class from the Star Institute, eh? Good. We had notice
that you were coming. Guard, bring Mr. Phipper a _Thor_ gun, then open
the gates." The last was spoken in a brisk tone to the guard who had
followed the captain.

The _Thor_ gun was brought immediately. It was a small weapon, with a
belt and holster. The captain took it from the holster. Watching, Billy
Kasker had the impression that the weapon was made of glittering, spun
glass. It had a short, heavy barrel in which tiny instruments were
visible. Billy Kasker watched very closely.

"Do you know how to use it?" the captain asked.

"Oh, yes," the instructor answered.

"Is it so dangerous in there tha