, and the shipment was brought through. Business with the
asteroid-hoppers was started at once.

When there was a lull, Art Kuzak talked expansively in his office bubb:

"Good work, Frank. Same to you, Ramos--except that I know you're itching
with your own ideas, and probably won't be around long. Which is your
affair... Never mind what anybody says about Venus, or any other place.
The Belt, with its history, its metals, and its possibilities, is the
best part of the solar system. Keep your defenses up, your line of
communication covered, and you can't help but make money. There are new
posts to set up, help to recruit and bring out, stellene plants and
other factories to construct. There'll be garden bubbs, repair
shops--everything. Time, work, and a little luck will do it. You
listening, Frank?"

Nelsen got a bit cagy with Art, again. "Okay, Art--you seem like a
formal fella. Mex and I joined up and helped out pretty much as informal
company members. But as long as we've put in our dough, let's make it
official, in writing and signed. The KRNH Enterprises--_K_uzak, _R_amos,
_N_elsen and _H_ines. The 'H' could also stand for Hendricks--Paul
Hendricks."

"I _like_ it that way, you suspicious slob," Art Kuzak chuckled.

So another phase began for Nelsen. Offices bored him. Amassing money,
per se, meant little to him, except as a success symbol that came out of
the life he had known. He figured that a man ought to be a success, even
a rough-and-tumble romantic like Ramos, or Joe Kuzak. Or himself, with
both distance and home engrained confusingly into his nature.

One thing that Nelsen was, was conscientious. He could choose and stick
to a purpose for even longer than it seemed right for him.

Mostly, now, during the long grind of expansion, he was afield.
Disturbances on Earth quieted for a while, as had always happened, so
far. The Belt responded with relative peace. Tovie Ceres, the Big
Asteroid, which, like the others, should have been open to all nations,
but wasn't, kept mostly to its own affairs. There were only the constant
dangers, natural, human, and a combination. There was always a job--a
convoy to meet, a load of supplies to rush to a distant point, Jolly
Lads to scare off. Reckless Ramos might be with Nelsen, or Joe Kuzak who
usually operated separately, or a few guards, or several
asteroid-hoppers, most of whom were tough and steady and good friends to
know. Often enough, Nelsen was alone.

At firs