s standing over me, carrying a couple of oxygen
bottles and a black case. He looked odd, standing there with a load in
his arms that would have crushed him flat on Mars. And then I knew. I
was on an asteroid.

"But how did I get here?"

"Easy," Redman's voice came over my headphone. "Didn't anyone ever
tell you an unconscious mind is easier to read than a conscious one?"
He chuckled. "No," he continued, "I don't suppose they did--but it is.
Indeed it is." He laid the bottles down, and put the box beside them.
"I learned how to operate the ship, stopped the spin, and got her back
into negative inertia before the Patrol found me. Found this place
about an hour ago--and since you began to look like you'd live, I
figured you should have a chance. So I'm leaving you a communicator
and enough air to keep you alive until you can get help. But so help
me--you don't deserve it. After I played square with you, you try to
do this to me."

"Square!" I yelped. "Why you--" The rest of what I said was
unprintable.

Redman grinned at me, his face rosy behind the glassite of his
helmet--and turned away. I turned to watch him picking his way
carefully back to where the yacht rested lightly on the naked rock. At
the airlock he turned and waved at me. Then he squeezed inside. The
lock closed. There was a brief shimmer around the ship--a briefer
blast of heat, and the yacht vanished.

I turned on the communicator and called for help. I used the Patrol
band. "I'll keep the transmitter turned on so you can home in on me,"
I broad-casted, "but get that Earthman first! He's got my money and my
ship. Pick me up later, but get him now!"

I didn't know whether my message was received or not, because Redman
didn't leave me any receiver other than the spacesuit intercom in my
helmet. It was, I suspected, a deliberate piece of meanness on his
part. So I kept talking until my voice was a hoarse croak, calling the
Patrol, calling--calling--calling, until a black shark shape blotted
out the stars overhead and a couple of Patrolmen in jetsuits homed in
on me.

"Did you get him?" I asked.

The Patrolman bending over me shrugged his shoulders. "They haven't
told me," he said.

* * * * *

They hauled me back to Marsport, put my leg in a cast, ran me through
the lie detector, and then tossed me in jail for safekeeping. I beefed
about the jail, but not too loud. As I figured it I was lucky to be
out of Abie's hand