mn his eyes, what business had
an erstwhile pirate, not too recently reformed, being self-righteous?

"Miro thinks," the Chief continued unheeding, "that the Callistans
know more about this than they admit. He has a theory that Callisto is
somehow gathering up these ships to use in a surprise attack against
his own planet, Ganymede. He says Callisto has always hated them."

"Damn good reason," Grant said laconically.

* * * * *

Miro's lidless eyes flamed into sudden life. "And what do you mean by
that, my friend?"

Pemberton replied calmly. "Simply that your people have harried and
ravaged them for untold centuries. They were your nearest prey, you
know."

Miro sprang to his feet, his soft suction pads gripping the floor as
though preparatory to a spring. Gone was the sanctimonious unction of
his former behavior; the ruthless savage glared out of the red eyes,
the flattened fingers were twisting and curling.

"You beastly Earthling," he cried in a voice choked with rage,
"I'll--"

The Chief intervened swiftly. "Here, none of that," he said sharply to
Miro. "Don't say anything you'll regret later." Then he turned to
Grant, who was steadily holding his ground: "There was no reason,
Pemberton, to insult an inspector of the Service. Consider yourself
reprimanded." But the edge of the rebuke was taken off by the slight
twinkle in the Chief's eye.

Somehow a truce was patched up. Grant was to ship as an ordinary
passenger on the _Althea_, the great passenger liner that plied
between Callisto and the Earth. It was not his duty to prevent the
disappearance of the vessel, the Chief insisted, but to endeavor to
discover the cause. It was up to Grant then to escape, if he could,
and to report to Miro on Ganymede immediately with his findings. Miro
was leaving by his private Service flier at once for Ganymede, to
await him. Grant thought he saw a faint sardonic gleam in the
Inspector's eyes at that, but paid no particular heed to it at the
time.

* * * * *

Now, as Grant stood in the corridor of the great space-flier,
listening intently for further sounds from his hidden foe, it flashed
on him. Miro knew he was on board. It was a Ganymedan who had
treacherously attacked him. The puzzle was slowly fitting its pieces
together. But the major piece still eluded him. What would happen to
the ship?

As he turned to go back to his room, a ripping, tearing, gri