orward electelscope. Meanwhile Friday kept his eyes strictly on
the dials before him and held the space-stick rigid, while aft, in the
ship's other compartments, three men strapped on ray-gun belts and
wondered who was doomed to be caught in the swoop of the Hawk.

* * * * *

Carse himself wondered that. The raider so far showed as a newcomer to
the frontiers of space; he was one who as yet had never faced the
Hawk, one to whom the tales that were told of him seemed laughable, to
whom the rich consignment of horn looked like a gift. Certainly such
an open attack did not resemble Ku Sui's subtle methods, or those of
his several henchmen, pirates of space all; they, rather, struck
behind his back, and then only when the infamous Eurasian had prepared
what seemed an escape-proof trap.

"Foolish to raid when I'm so close!" he murmured as he trained the
electelscope and peered into its eye-piece. "Stupid! Unless...."

Friday, at the space-stick, mopped the trickles of sweat from his brow
and with a vast sigh shifted his bulk. The job of speeding into an
atmospheric pressure was always ticklish, and it was with some relief
that he reported "Into th' atmosphere, suh," according to routine. He
waited for the usual acknowledgment, and when it did not come repeated
his observation in a louder voice. Two full minutes of silence passed.
Then, finally, Hawk Carse turned from the electelscope, and even the
negro shivered at sight of the deadly mask that was his face.

For the ranch-house in its clearing had dimly appeared in the
electelscope just as Friday had spoken.

Carse spoke.

"More speed, if it burns us up," came his almost whispered words. "I
want much more speed."

Harkness gulped. "Yes, sir," he said, and, moistening his lips, he
returned to the engine-room. The frigid gray eyes swung back to the
sight that was revealed on Iapetus.

The long, lean shape of a rakish space ship was resting on the soil
some three hundred yards from the ranch-house, and between were the
hazy figures of six men, busily dragging as many boxes towards their
craft. The boxes contained the whole half-year's harvest of phanti
horns, and had obviously been looted from the house. The resistance
had been overcome; the pirate raid had succeeded. The trim,
gray-painted ranch-house was lifeless....

* * * * *

The Hawk switched off the electelscope. His colorless lips were
compress