oping to catch the eye of one of
them, but they were all watching Coxine.

The pirate captain pulled a thin rod about two feet long, with a switch
on one end, from his jacket. He walked to the solid titanium door of the
vault and inserted the rod into a small hole, pressing the switch at the
end of the rod carefully several times. He stepped back and inserted it
in another hole in the face of the door and repeated the procedure.
Putting the key back in his jacket he grabbed the handle of the massive
door. It swung open at his touch. The captain of the liner and officers
gasped in amazement.

Working quickly, Coxine crammed the thick bundles of credit notes and
passenger's valuables into a bag. At last he straightened up, and facing
the unbelieving officer again, he tossed them a mocking salute. He
nodded to Tom and Shelly and walked out of the control room without
another word.

Shelly and Tom quickly followed the giant spaceman back to the jet-boat
deck, where Wallace was just returning from his own operations. Wallace
made a circle out of his fingers to Coxine and the giant pirate nodded.

"Let's get out of here!" he ordered.

"Aren't you afraid they'll try to stop you, skipper?" asked Tom.

Coxine laughed. "Just let them try. I never met a man yet that had the
nerve to pull the trigger of a paralo-ray gun while my back was turned."

Tom gulped and wondered if he would have the nerve to fire on the
spaceman. He thought about it a moment and decided that he would take
any chance that came along, if he could outwit the criminal. When the
time came, he would risk his life to stop Coxine!

CHAPTER 14

"All right, line up, you space crawlers!" bawled Coxine. "When I call
your name step up to get your share of the haul!"

The pirate captain was seated at the head of a long mess table, an open
ledger in front of him. There were stacks of crisp new credit notes at
his elbow. He took out his paralo-ray pistols and placed them within
easy reach. On either side of him, Wallace and Simms sat, staring at the
money with greedy eyes.

Coxine looked at the first name on the ledger.

"Joe Brooks!" he called. "One thousand credits for spotting the liner!"

Brooks grinned and amid cheers walked to the table. Coxine handed him a
small stack of notes carelessly and turned back to the ledger.

"Gil Attardi!" he roared. "One thousand credits for working on the
boarding crew."

Attardi, a sly, scar-faced man, steppe