t 25th, and was known to be
carrying several days reserve of oxygen and supplies. Director
McIlroy has expressed a hope that Evans will be found before his
oxygen runs out.

Search parties have started from Williamson Town, but telescopic
search from Palomar and the new satellite observatory are hindered
by the fact that Evans is lost on the part of the Moon which is now
dark. Little hope is held for radio contact with the missing man as
it is believed he was carrying only short-range,
intercommunications equipment. Nevertheless, receivers are ...

Captain Nickel Jones was also expressing a hope: "Anyway, Mac," he was
saying to McIlroy, "a Welshman knows when his luck's run out. And never
a word did he say."

"Like as not, you're right," McIlroy replied, "but if I know Evans, he'd
never say a word about any forebodings."

"Well, happen I might have a bit of Welsh second sight about me, and it
tells me that Evans will be found."

McIlroy chuckled for the first time in several days. "So that's the
reason you didn't take off when you were scheduled," he said.

"Well, yes," Jones answered. "I thought that it might happen that a
rocket would be needed in the search."

The light from Earth lighted the Moon as the Moon had never lighted
Earth. The great blue globe of Earth, the only thing larger than the
stars, wheeled silently in the sky. As it turned, the shadow of sunset
crept across the face that could be seen from the Moon. From full Earth,
as you might say, it moved toward last quarter.

The rising sun shone into Director McIlroy's office. The hot light
formed a circle on the wall opposite the window, and the light became
more intense as the sun slowly pulled over the horizon. Mrs. Garth
walked into the director's office, and saw the director sleeping with
his head cradled in his arms on the desk. She walked softly to the
window and adjusted the shade to darken the office. She stood looking at
McIlroy for a moment, and when he moved slightly in his sleep, she
walked softly out of the office.

A few minutes later she was back with a cup of coffee. She placed it in
front of the director, and shook his shoulder gently.

"Wake up, Mr. McIlroy," she said, "you told me to wake you at sunrise,
and there it is, and here's Mr. Phelps."

McIlroy woke up slowly. He leaned back in his chair and stretched. His
neck was stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position.

"'Mo