hands, the Earth gesture of--strangely enough--both
greeting and farewell, but we both realized that this might well be a
final parting. The door closed behind him, and Correy and I were left
together to watch the creeping hands of the Earth clock, the twin
charts with their thick spatter of green lights, and the two fiery red
sparks, one on each chart, that represented the _Ertak_ sweeping
recklessly towards the swarming danger ahead.

* * * * *

In other accounts of my experiences in the Special Patrol Service I
feel that I have written too much about myself. After all, I have run
my race; a retired commander of the Service, and an old, old man, with
the century mark well behind me, my only use is to record, in this
fashion, some of those things the Service accomplished in the old days
when the worlds of the Universe were strange to each other, and space
travel was still an adventure to many.

The Universe is not interested in old men; it is concerned only with
youth and action. It forgets that once we were young men, strong,
impetuous, daring. It forgets what we did; but that has always been
so. It always will be so. John Hanson, retired Commander of the
Special Patrol Service, is fit only to amuse the present generation
with his tales of bygone days.

Well, so be it. I am content. I have lived greatly; certainly I would
not exchange my memories of those bold, daring days even for youth and
strength again, had I to live that youth and waste that strength in
this softened, gilded age.

But no more of this; it is too easy for an old man to rumble on about
himself. It is only the young John Hanson, Commander of the _Ertak_,
who can interest those who may pick up and read what I am writing
here.

I did not waste the minutes measured by that clock, grouped with our
other instruments in the navigating room of the _Ertak_. I wrote
hastily in the ship's log, stating the facts briefly and without
feeling. If we came through, the log would read better thus; if not,
and by some strange chance it came to human eyes, then the Universe
would know at least that the _Ertak's_ officers did not flinch from
even such a danger.

* * * * *

As I finished the entry, Correy spoke:

"Kincaide's estimate was not far off, sir," he said, with a swift
glance at the clock. "Here we go!" It was less than half a minute
short of the ten estimated by Kincaide.

I nodded and