country expected him to do. Halliday was a psychopathic
case; his mind was full of a hundred and one imagined horrors and they
kept him from doing his job. There was little wonder that he had been
three years attempting to compile the information that should have been
gathered in three months.

The man was so terrified of imagined dangers that he was helpless to
act. Ward felt a moment of pity for him, the pity the brave invariably
feel for the weak and cowardly. But he also felt a cold and bitter
contempt for the man who had allowed his own fear and timidity to hold
up the important work of accumulating data on this section of the
planet. If he wasn't man enough to do the job, he should have at least
been man enough to admit it.

Ward decided that the next day he'd have the thing out. He undressed
slowly and stretched out on the narrow cot, but sleep was a long time in
coming.

When he stepped from his room the next day he saw that Halliday was
standing in the doorway gazing out over the dull gray Martian landscape.

"Aren't you taking quite a chance?" he asked, with heavy sarcasm.

Halliday ignored the gibe. "No. I made a careful check before I released
the door lock and opened up. Did you sleep well?"

"Fair," Ward said. "How can you tell the days and nights here? Is there
ever any change in the sky?"

Halliday shook his head. "Sometimes it gets a little darker, sometimes
it's lighter. When you're tired you go to bed. That's the only standard
we have." He shaded his eyes with his hand and stared for a long moment
at the bleak, depressing horizon.

Looking over his shoulder, Ward noticed swirling humid mists drifting in
the air and, above, huge massive clouds of dense blackness were
gathering. He felt a peculiar electric tightness in the atmosphere.

Halliday closed and locked the door carefully.

"Might as well have breakfast," he said. "There's nothing else we can do
today."

"Do we have to stay cooped up here all day?" Ward asked.

"I'm afraid so. This weather is ready to break any minute now, and when
it does I intend to be behind a well-locked door."

Ward's lips curled slightly.

"Okay," he said quietly, "we'll wait for the monsoon to blow over. Then,
Raspers or not, I'm going to work."

* * * * *

But four long days dragged by and there was no indication that the
monsoon weather was prepared to break. Low dense clouds were massed
overhead and the air was gusty