g
orange juice. I guess it's the old gag about diet, eh?"

* * * * *

My attention wandered about the salon. Most of the seats were occupied.
At the captain's table I saw the objects of my search. George Prince and
his sister sat one on each side of the captain. I saw George Prince in
the life now as a man who looked hardly twenty-five. He was at this
moment evidently in a gay mood. His clean-cut, handsome profile, with
its poetic dark curls, was turned toward me. There seemed little of the
villain about him.

And I saw Anita Prince now as a dark-haired, black eyed little beauty,
in feature resembling her brother very strongly. She presently finished
her meal. She rose, with him after her. She was dressed in Earth
fashion--white blouse and dark jacket, wide, knee-length trousers of
gray, with a red sash her only touch of color. She went past me, flashed
me her smile and nod.

My heart was pounding. I answered her greeting, and met George Prince's
casual gaze. He, too, smiled, as though to signify that his sister had
told him of the service I had done her. Or was his smile an ironical
memory of how he had eluded me this morning when I chased him?

I gazed after his small, white-suited figure as he followed Anita from
the salon. And thinking of her, I prayed that Carter and Halsey might be
wrong. Whatever plotting against the Grantline Expedition might be going
on, I hoped that George Prince was innocent of it. Yet I knew in my
heart it was a futile hope. Prince had been that eavesdropper outside
the helio-room. I could not really doubt it. But that his sister must be
ignorant of what he was doing, I was sure.

* * * * *

My attention was brought suddenly back to the reality of our table. I
heard Ob Hahn's silky voice:

"We passed quite close to the moon last night, Mr. Dean."

"Yes," said Snap. "We did, didn't we? Always do--it's a technical
problem of the exigencies of interstellar navigation. Explain it to
them, Gregg--you're an expert."

I waved it away with a laugh. There was a brief silence. I could not
help noticing Sir Arthur Coniston's queer look, and I think I have never
seen so keen a glance as Rance Rankin shot at me. Were all these people
aware of Grantline's treasure on the moon? It suddenly seemed so. I
wished fervently at that instant that the ten days of this voyage were
over and we were safely at Ferrok-Shahn. Captain Carter was ab