priceless metal on the Moon
and that the _Planetara_ would stop there on the way home.

But we could not incarcerate George Prince for being an eavesdropper.
Nor had we the faintest possible evidence against Ob Hahn or Rankin.
And even the purser would probably be released by the Interplanetary
Court of Ferrok-Shahn when it heard our evidence.

There was only Miko. We could arrest him for the murder of Anita. But
if we did that now, the others would be put on their guard. It was
Carter's idea to let Miko remain at liberty for a time and see if we
could identify and incriminate his fellows. The murder of Anita
obviously had nothing to do with any plot against Grantline Moon
treasure.

"Why," exclaimed Balch, "there might be--probably are--huge Martian
interests concerned in this thing. These men aboard are only
emissaries, making this voyage to learn what they can. When they get
to Ferrok-Shahn, they'll make their report, and then we'll have a real
danger on our hands. Why, an outlaw ship could be launched from
Ferrok-Shahn that would beat us back to the Moon--and Grantline is
entirely without warning of any danger!"

It seemed obvious. Unscrupulous criminals in Ferrok-Shahn would be
dangerous indeed, once these details of Grantline were given them. So
now it was decided that in the remaining nine days of our outward
voyage, we would attempt to secure enough evidence to arrest all these
plotters.

"I'll have them all in the cage when we land," declared Carter grimly.
"They'll make no report to their principals!"

Ah, the futile plans of men!

Yet, at the time, we thought it practical. We were all doubly armed
now. Bullet projectors and heat ray cylinders. And we had several
eavesdropping microphones which we planned to use whenever occasion
offered.

Only twenty-eight hours of this eventful voyage had passed. The
_Planetara_ was some six million miles from the Earth; it blazed
behind us, a tremendous giant.

The body of Anita was being made ready for burial. George Prince was
still in his stateroom. Glutz, effeminate little hairdresser, who
waxed rich acting as beauty doctor for the women passengers, and who,
in his youth, had been an undertaker, had gone with Dr. Frank to
prepare the body.

Gruesome details. I tried not to think of them. I sat, numbed, in the
chart room.

An astronomical burial--there was little precedent for it. I dragged
myself to the stern deck where, at five A.M., the ceremony took