's heart
was both kindly and chivalrous.

"Take those tall stories of his," he said more than once. "Betty, they
don't mean a thing. Old spacedogs love to kid tenderfeet. Imagine trying
to make me believe that it's dangerous out here! And all that malarkey
about Captain Burgee being a pirate or something!"

They stared at Sugar Plum, at its small polar ice caps, its seas, its
continents greener than Earth's, its wandering white clouds. Not many
hours before, it had been only a dust mote, a pinpoint of light in the
void. Now it filled half the sky. And suddenly Charles understood the
immensities, the unspeakable stretches of space in which Boston had
vanished.

Shivering, he wished he were home, stiffly safe in a curlicued chair,
with Solomon dialing his dinner for him.

"Nice piece of property," grunted Possett around his cigar. "Too bad
about--" He broke off with a shrug.

"About what?" asked Charles, alarmed.

"I wouldn't want to be in your shoes if Burgee comes around and finds
you'd run off with his planet."

"Burgee? He was lost out in space!"

"His kind don't stay lost. Chances are he's hiding out from the law. But
it's none of my business. Just thought I'd warn you."

Charles laughed weakly. "You c-can't frighten me. I'm sure there aren't
any pirates in space any more."

Possett turned to his weasel-faced mate. "Loopy, call the New Texas
spaceport. Get Mac on the screen."

The mate nodded. He twiddled a dial and punched at a switch. The screen
glowed. After some seconds, the face of a red-haired person appeared,
looking rather disgusted.

"New Texas, New Texas," came a voice. "I hear you, _Beautiful Joe_. What
the hell do you want?"

"Dude aboard wants some info," said Possett. "Wants to know what Burgee
did for a living--Alexander Burgee. Also, are the coppers still trying
to find him?"

The face frowned. "Possett, you know damn well Burgee was a pirate. You
know he's been listed as lost. Now quit wasting my time. New Texas out."

The face vanished. The mate snickered nastily. And Charles just stood
there gaping.

"A real pirate!" squeaked Cousin Aurelia. "Wh-what would he do? Would he
_kill_ us?"

"Might do anything. But--" eying her, Possett leered--"he's like me.
Likes 'em well fattened up. Lady, you needn't worry."

Cousin Aurelia paled. She started to sway. Then, perhaps recalling the
uncarpeted deck, she recovered and looked haughty instead.

"I am going right back to my cabin," s