What we've just been talking about. And what
was the excitement you were in just before breakfast this morning?"

"Excitement?"

"Gregg, you may trust me." For the first time she was wholly serious.
Her gaze made sure no one was within hearing. She put her hand on my
arm. I could barely hear her whisper: "I know they might have a ray upon
us--I'll be careful."

"They?"

"Anyone. Something's going on. You know it--you are in it. I saw you
this morning, Gregg. Wild-eyed, chasing a phantom--"

"You?"

"And I heard the phantom! A man's footsteps. A magnetic reflecting
invisible cloak. You couldn't fool an audience with that--it's too
commonplace. If Rance Rankin tried--"

I gripped her. "Don't ramble, Venza! You saw me?"

"Yes. My stateroom door was open. I was sitting with a cigarillo. I saw
the purser in the smoking room. He was visible from--"

"Wait! Venza, that prowler went through the smoking room!"

"I know he did. I could hear him."

"Did the purser hear him?"

"Of course. The purser looked up, followed the sound with his gaze. I
thought that was queer. He never made a move. And then you came along
and he acted innocent. Why? What's going on, that's what I want to
know!"

* * * * *

I held my breath. "Venza, where did the prowler run to? Can you--"

She whispered calmly, "Into A 20. I saw the door open and close--I even
think I could see the blurred outline of him. Those magnetic cloaks!"
She added, "Why should George Prince be sneaking around with you after
him? And the purser acting innocent? And who is this George Prince,
anyway?"

The huge Martian, Miko, with his sister Moa came strolling along the
deck. They nodded as they passed us.

I whispered, "I can't explain anything now. But you're right, Venza:
there is something going on. Listen! Whatever you learn--anything you
encounter which looks unusual--will you tell me? I--well, I do trust
you--really I do!--but the thing isn't mine to tell."

The somber pools of her eyes were shining. "You are very lovable, Gregg.
I won't question you." She was trembling with excitement. "Whatever it
is, I want to be in it. Here's something I can tell you now. We've two
high-class gold-leaf gamblers aboard. Did you know that?"

"No. Who are--"

"Shac and Dud Ardley. Let me state every detective in Great-New York
knows them. They had a wonderful game with that Englishman, Sir Arthur
Coniston, this morning. Stripped him of