nce?"

I told him I was convinced the prowler went into A20. When I mentioned
the purser, who seemed to have been watching me earlier in the night,
and again was sitting in the smoking room when the eavesdropper fled
past, Carter looked startled.

"Johnson is all right, Gregg."

"Does he know anything about this Grantline affair?"

"No--no," said Carter hastily. "You haven't mentioned it, have you?"

"Of course I haven't. But why didn't Johnson hear that eavesdropper?
And what was he doing there, anyway, at that hour of the morning?"

The Captain ignored my questions. "I'm going to have that Prince
suite searched--we can't be too careful.... Go to bed, Gregg, you need
rest."

I went to my cabin. It was located aft, on the stern deck, near the
stern watch tower. A small metal room with a chair, a desk and a bunk.
I made sure no one was in it. I sealed the lattice grill and the door,
set the alarm trigger against any opening of them, and went to bed.

The siren for the midday meal awakened me. I had slept heavily. I felt
refreshed.

I found the passengers already assembled at my table when I arrived in
the dining salon. It was a low vaulted metal room with blue and yellow
tube lights. At its sides the oval windows showed the deck, with its
ports on the dome side, through which a vista of the starry firmament
was visible. We were well on our course to Mars. The Moon had dwindled
to a pin point of light beside the crescent Earth. And behind them our
Sun blazed, visually the largest orb in the heavens. It was some
sixty-eight million miles from the Earth to Mars. A flight,
ordinarily, of some ten days.

There were five tables in the dining salon, each with eight seats.
Snap and I had one of the tables. We sat at the ends, with the
passengers on each of the sides.

Snap was in his seat when I arrived. He eyed me down the length of the
table. In a gay mood, he introduced me to the three men already
seated:

"This is our third officer, Gregg Haljan. Big, handsome fellow, isn't
he? And as pleasant as he is good-looking. Gregg, this is Sero Ob
Hahn."

I met the keen, somber gaze of a Venus man of middle age. A small,
slim graceful man, with sleek black hair. His pointed face,
accentuated by the pointed beard, was pallid. He wore a white and
purple robe; upon his breast was a huge platinum ornament, a device
like a star and cross entwined.

"I am happy to meet you, sir." His voice was soft and deep.

"Ob Hahn,