im back,
clutching at his breath. He climbed out on the catwalk slowly, crouching
to the smoothness of the plastic, and wriggled ahead.

The diesel room was below him now. Its top door opened easy. He
listened. All motors were purring smoothly. The hot smell of oil drifted
up. Ahead, the cab was silent.

He pushed his feet down cautiously and dropped. His feet hit the oily
floor and he fell flat. The door to the cab was open. He went toward it,
saw lights over the dash and ran to the main control stick. It was
lashed firmly in place with heavy chain.

The speed indicator was pointing to four hundred miles per hour. Swiftly
he released the chain, and felt the control lever break loose, falling
into neutral. Blake reached for the magnetic brake, and heard a footstep
on the floor behind. He whirled swiftly. O'Toole was standing at the
entrance of the diesel room, electro gun pointing at Blake's chest.

"You're a smart one," O'Toole said. He waved the gun meaningly. "I'm
glad you cut the power. We'll coast from here to the lake."

Blake was silent.

"Thought Walter Ferrell was the chief of this outfit, did you?" O'Toole
was enjoying himself. "Well, I didn't have any idea of jumping the
train. We'll coast within a mile of the cut, shoot the coupling free
between the cab and the coaches, and set our brakes. Walter Ferrell and
his little party are going to taste cold water for the last time."

Blake said nothing. He started to walk deliberately toward the hulking
Irishman. O'Toole snarled.

"Back," he warned. "I've got to kill you anyhow. It might as well be
now." Blake grinned.

"I can't understand why you ever included me in this set-up to begin
with," he said. "Things would have been easier if you hadn't sent for
me."

"Listen Blake, when I sent for you, I figured you'd fit in here. I
didn't know you'd fall for all this kid brother heroic stuff."

* * * * *

"You evidently knew something of my history," Blake said coolly. "Why
did you play that sympathetic game?"

O'Toole seemed anxious to be understood.

"I knew you had been pirating every space craft between here and Mars,"
he said. "I knew that you had a swell reputation and were clever as
hell. I knew that if you'd see things my way, I could get Walter Ferrell
in bankruptcy within a month, and cut you in as a partner."

"Why change your mind?" Blake asked. He sat down in the pilot's chair
and crossed his legs comfortably