not the Caves.

Penrun folded up the crumpled bit of paper and placed it carefully in
his shoe. Unless his guess was wrong, another attempt to get it would
be made shortly. Undoubtedly the girl had by now reported her failure
to the rest of the gang.

* * * * *

The inquest was brief. The white-sheeted body of the Martian lay on
the table where he had been slain. The captain of the liner called
Penrun as the chief witness. He told a straightforward story of a
chance acquaintance with Lozzo who, he said, seemed to be afraid of
something. He had declared, so Penrun testified, that he was being
hounded for a map of some kind and he wanted Penrun to see it. Then
the murder had been committed, the map was stolen, and the murderer
had fled. That was all, Penrun concluded, he knew about the matter.

Other passengers corroborated his story and he was dismissed.

Throughout the inquest Penrun studied the crowd of passengers that
jammed the buffet, hoping he might catch a glimpse of the slender,
dark-eyed girl who had tried to rob him. She was nowhere to be seen.
He thought of telling the captain about her, but decided not to. She
might make another attempt to get the map, and thereby give him the
opportunity of rounding up the whole gang, or at least of learning who
they were. He told himself grimly that if he could lay hold of her
again, she would not escape so easily.

If Penrun didn't realize before that he was a marked man, it was
impressed on him more forcefully three hours later on the lower deck
when two men attacked him in the darkened passage near the stern.
There was no time for pistols. A series of hurried fist-blows. He
slugged his way free and fled to the safety of his stateroom.

Once there he locked the door and sat down to consider his position.
It was obvious now that he would be followed to the outposts of space,
if necessary, in an attempt to get the map from him.

* * * * *

After half an hour's hard thinking he tossed away his fourth
cigarette, loosened the pistol in his armpit holster, and slipped out
of the room. He went to the captain.

"You think, then, that your life is in danger because you happened to
be talking to that old Martian when he was murdered?" asked the
captain, when Penrun had finished.

"No question about it," declared Penrun. "Two attempts have been made
already."

"Hmm," said the captain, frowning. "A most rem