their sparkle. "Right!" he exclaimed. "I forgot
the mental message. Poor devils! All over for them now. But we'll
carry their message. How far is it?"

"Don't know yet till I determine our position and the position of
Jupiter. But it's quite a way. Jupiter's 483 million miles from the
Sun, you know."

"We're more than half way, then."

"Not necessarily. Perhaps we're on the opposite side of the sun from
Jupiter's present position. Then we'd have a real trip."

"Let's figure it out." Carr was anxious to be off.

Luck was with them, as they found after some observations from the
turret. Jupiter lay off their original course by not more than fifteen
degrees. It was but four days' journey.

Again they were on their way and the two men, Martian and Terrestrial,
made good use of the time in renewing their old friendship and in the
study of astronomy as they had done during the first leg of their
journey. Though of widely differing build and nature, the two found a
close bond in their similar inclinations. The library of the Nomad was
an excellent one. Thrygis had seen to that, all of the voice-vision
reels being recorded in Cos, the interplanetary language, with its
standardized units of weight and measurement.

* * * * *

The supplies on board the _Nomad_ were ample. Synthetic foods there
were for at least a hundred Martian days. The supply of oxygen and
water was inexhaustible, these essential items being produced in
automatic retorts where disassembled electrons from their cosmic-ray
hydrogen were reassembled in the proper structure to produce atoms of
any desired element. Their supply of synthetic food could be
replenished in like manner when necessity arose. Thrygis had forgotten
nothing.

"How do you suppose we'll make ourselves understood to the people of
Europa?" asked Carr, when they had swung around the great orb of
Jupiter and were headed toward the satellite.

"Shouldn't have any trouble, Carr. Believe me, to a people who have
progressed to the point of sending mental messages over five hundred
miles of space, it'll be a cinch, understanding our simple mental
processes. Bet they'll read our every thought."

"That's right. But the language. Proper names and all that. Can't get
those over with thought waves."

"No, but I'll bet they'll have some way of solving that too. You wait
and see."

Carr lighted a cigar and inhaled deeply as he gazed from one of the
ports. He'd