on was certain that his silent unknown foe held the clue to the
mystery he was trying to fathom. He fought on, silently, grimly. The
cold creatoid fabric was slippery, but a sudden jerk of an arm, a
certain quick twist that Grant was familiar with, and his enemy went
limp. Grant's breath was coming in quick, labored gasps. There was
very little air left now. But he did not care. He tugged at the
fastenings on the helmet. He must see who his captive was, wrest from
him the heart of the mystery.

There came a clatter of feet behind him, a sudden rush of space-suited
figures that overwhelmed and passed over him with trampling strides.
He was torn loose from his prey, rolled over and over, gasping for
air. When he staggered to his feet again, bruised and shaken, the
corridor was swept clean of figures. His assailants had carried his
opponent away with them.

A wild surge of anger swept through him. More Ganymedans, these
rescuers, all accoutered for airless space. They had been carefully
prepared for this. Heedless of all else, he swayed groggily after
them, intent only on joining battle once again. The illumination was
dim now, the cries of fear that had rung through the ship were gone;
only a deathly silence reigned now. His lungs were burning for want
of air; even the whirlwind had died down for lack of fuel. But still
he kept on, like a bloodhound on the trail.

* * * * *

He rounded a corner. A slight figure, swaying like a reed, collided
with him and would have fallen if he had not thrust out a supporting
arm. It was a girl. Even in the shadowy light he saw that she was
beautiful. Her delicately molded features were drained white, but her
deep pooled eyes were level in their gaze, unafraid.

"I'm sorry," he managed, finding utterance labored, "Are you hurt?"

"Quite all right," she said, with a wan smile, "if only I had some air
to breathe."

The essential bravery of her touched him. He forgot all about the
escaped Ganymedans.

"We'll have to try some other portion of the ship. Maybe some of the
bulkheads are uninjured."

She shook her head. "I just saw the captain," she enunciated faintly.
"Every bulkhead is riddled. Said--I--should get space-suit--in
stateroom--though no use--doomed. Something wrong--wireless--not
working...." Her voice trailed. She had fainted.

Grant caught up her slight form and lurched unsteadily into the
nearest cabin. The blood was roaring in his ear