it, hoping that anyone near enough would pick it
up. Wonder how he did it?"

Roger thought a moment. "I'm not sure, sir, but I think he's crossed the
impulse on the scanner from positive to negative."

"How do you mean?" asked Strong. The young captain was well acquainted
with the principle of radar but, admittedly, could not match Roger's
natural ability.

"By making the impulse negative, sir," said Roger, "he could create
interference on the scanner. Instead of bouncing against something and
returning an image to a scanner, the impulse hits itself and creates
static which shows up in the form of those white flashes."

"Well, in any case," said Strong with a sober nod toward the scanner,
"he's done something the whole Solar Guard couldn't do. He's quite a
boy!"

Roger smiled. "I'll say he is, skipper!"

Strong turned away and climbed down to the control deck. He sat in front
of the great control panel and watched the countless dials and needles.
But his mind wasn't on the delicate handling of the great ship. He was
thinking about Tom, alone aboard a ship with a crew of desperate
criminals.

Tom had taken his life in his hands to send out the message, that much
Strong was sure of! And the young skipper noted with pride that there
was no appeal for help in the desperate call.

He shook his head wearily and flipped the teleceiver switch to report to
Commander Walters.

* * * * *

"Emergency ... attention...." Tom continued to tap out the message
slowly and carefully. Behind him, he could hear Brooks hammering against
the locker door. Tom felt like opening the door and freezing the pirate
with his paralo-ray gun to keep him quiet, but he didn't dare to stop
sending.

Finally Tom decided it was time to go. "If anyone's going to pick up the
message," he thought, "they've picked it up by now. I may still have
time to get away in a jet boat."

He tied the wires together, causing a continuous interference to be sent
out, and secured the radar casing. "If I'm lucky enough to get away in a
jet boat," thought Tom, "at least they won't be able to pick me up on
that!"

Without a glance at the locker where Brooks continued to pound and yell,
Tom turned to the hatch leading to the passageway. He gripped the
paralo-ray gun and opened the hatch. Peering into the passageway and
finding it deserted, he slipped out and closed the hatch behind him.
From below, he could hear the roar of the cr