that he get this clearly thought out--this experience that was close
ahead.

"Skin friction!" he added. "It will burn us up!"

He had a sudden vision of a flaming star blazing a hot trail through
the atmosphere of this globe; there would be only savage eyes to
follow it--to see the line of fire curving swiftly across the
heavens.... He, himself, was seeing that blazing meteor so plainly....

His eyes found the lookout: the globe was gone. They were
close--close! Only for the enveloping gas that made of this a dark
moon, they would be seeing the surface, the outlines of continents.

Chet strained his eyes--to see nothing! It was horrible. It had been
fearful enough to watch that expanding globe.... He was abruptly aware
that the outer rim of the lookout was red!

For Chet Bullard, time ceased to have meaning; what were seconds--or
centuries--as he stared at that glowing rim? He could not have told.
The outer shell of their ship--it was radiant--shining red-hot in the
night. And above the roar of the generator came a nerve-ripping
shriek. A wind like a blast from hell was battering and tearing at
their ship.

"Good-by!" He had tried to call; the demoniac shrieking from without
smothered his voice. One arm was across his eyes in an unconscious
motion. The air of the little room was stifling. He forced his arm
down: he would meet death face to face.

* * * * *

The lookout was ringed with fire; it was white with the terrible white
of burning steel!--it was golden!--then cherry red! It was dying, as
the fire dies from glowing metal plunged in its tempering bath--or
thrown into the cold reaches of space!

In Chet's ears was the roar of a detonite motor. He tried to realize
that the lookouts were rimmed with black--cold, fireless black! An
incredible black! There were stars there like pinpoints of flame! But
conviction came only when he saw from a lookout in another wall a
circle of violet that shrank and dwindled as he watched....

A hand was gripping his shoulder; he heard the voice of Walter
Harkness speaking, while Walt's hand crept over to raise the triple
star that was pinned to his blouse.

"Master Pilot of the World!" Harkness was saying. "That doesn't cover
enough territory, old man. It's another rating that you're entitled
to, but I'm damned if I know what it is."

And, for once, Chet's ready smile refused to form. He stared dumbly at
his friend; his eyes passed to the