us. The weapons and the belt of bombs were near the
ascending ladder, evidently placed here as equipment for use from the
top of the dome.

I turned to the solitary duty man. I must gain his confidence at once.
Anita had laid her helmet aside. She spoke first.

"We were with _Set_ Miko," she said smilingly, "in the wreck of the
_Planetara_. You heard of it? We know where the treasure is."

This duty man was a full seven feet tall, and the most heavy-set
Martian I had ever seen. A tremendous, beetle-browed, scowling fellow.
He stood with hands on his hips, his leather-garbed legs spread wide;
and as I confronted him, I felt like a child.

He was silent, glaring down at me as I drew his attention from Anita.

"You speak English?" I asked. "We are not skilled with Martian."

I wondered if at the next time of sleep this fellow would be on duty
here. I hoped not: it would not be easy to trick him and find an
opportunity to flash a signal. But that task was some hours away as
yet; I would worry about it when the time came. Just now I was
concerned with Miko and his little band, who at any moment might
arrive in sight. If we could persuade this duty man to turn the
projector on them!

He answered me in ready English:

"You are the man Gregg Haljan? And this is the sister of George
Prince--what do you want up here?"

"I am a navigator. Brotow wants me to pilot the ship when we advance
to attack Grantline."

"This is not the control room."

"No, I know it isn't."

I put my helmet carefully on the floor beside Anita's. I straightened
to find the brigand gazing at her. He did not speak: he was still
scowling. But in the dim blue glow of the cubby, I caught the look in
his eyes.

I said hastily, "Grantline knows your ship has landed here on
Archimedes. His camp is off there on the Mare Imbrium. He sent up a
signal--you saw it, didn't you?--just before Miss Prince and I came
aboard. He was trying to pretend he was your Earth party, Miko and
Coniston."

"Why?"

The fellow turned his scowl on me, but Anita brought his gaze back to
her. She put in quickly:

"Grantline, as brother always said, has no great cunning. I believe
now he plans to creep up on us unawares, by pretending that he is
Miko."

"If he does that," I said, "we will turn this electronic projector on
him and his party and annihilate them. You have its firing mechanism
here."

"Who told you so?" he shot at me.

I gestured. "I see it here. It's