as nothing in
the case but a few curiously shaped bits of metal. The thing was too
simple to be comprehensible when one did not know the principle by which
it worked.

The same trouble showed up with every device examined.

These were important matters. Captain Moggs visibly grew in her own
estimation. She commandeered a supply plane and took off immediately for
Washington with the news of the event she'd witnessed, prints of Soames'
photographs, and samples of the children's possessions which could be
carried on her person.

* * * * *

Back at the base the most urgent problem was communication with the
children. So Gail began gently to teach the taller girl some few English
words. Very shortly she greeted Soames anxiously when he came to see how
the process went.

"Her name," said Gail, "is Zani. The other girl--the one with blue
eyes--is Mal, and the boy in the brown tunic is Fran and the one in the
green is Hod. She understands that there's a language to be learned.
She's writing down words in some sort of writing of her own. She was
bewildered when I handed her a ball-point pen, but she understood as
soon as I demonstrated. They must write with something else.

"But--what happens next? What's going to happen to the children? They've
no friends, no family, nobody to care what happens to them! They're in a
terrible fix, Brad!"

"For which I'm responsible," said Soames grimly, "and about which I'm
already jittering."

"I'm responsible too!" said Gail quickly. "I helped! What are you
worrying about?"

"They burned up their ship," said Soames more grimly still. "Why?"

She shook her head, watching his expression.

"They treated us like harmless savages in the beginning," he said. "Then
I destroyed their only hope of getting in touch with their families and
friends. So one of the boys destroyed their ship. But the others knew,
and got ready for it by bringing some possessions out of it. Why?"

"I'm not sure ..." said Gail.

"If we'd captured their ship intact," Soames told her, "we'd have
studied it. Either we'd have come to understand it, so we could build
one too, or if we couldn't--being savages--we'd have given up entirely.
In either case the children wouldn't matter to us. They'd simply have
been castaways. As it is, they've got us where they want us. I suspect
they've got some trinkets to trade with us, as we might offer beads to
bushmen. Let them or help them signal t