et for its own
take-off, or it would be grounded forever on Procyron III.

Patrolman Willis frowned.

"We looked pretty carefully from aloft," he said uncomfortably. "If
there'd been another burned-off landing place, we'd have seen it."

"I know," rumbled Sergeant Madden. "And we didn't. But there must've
been another ship aground when the _Cerberus_ came in. Where was it? It
prob'ly knew the _Cerberus_ was landing to wait for help. How? If
somebody was coming to help the _Cerberus_ it would be bound to spot the
other ship, and it didn't want to be spotted. Why? Anyhow, it must've
taken the _Cerberus_ and sent it off, and then taken off itself, leaving
nothing sensible for us to think. 'Sounds like delinks." Then he
growled. "Only it's not. There'd have to be too many men. Delinks don't
work together more'n two or three. Too jealous of showin' off. But where
was that other ship, and what was it doin' here?"

Patrolman Willis hesitated, and then said:

"There used to be pirates, sergeant."

"Uh-huh," said the sergeant. "You had it right the first time, most
likely. Not delinks. Not pirates. You said Huks." He looked around,
estimatingly. "The rockets had to be brought here from somewhere else
where they'd been landed. I'm betting the tracks were covered pretty
careful. But rockets are heavy. Manhandlin' them, whoever was doin' it
would take the easiest way. Hm-m-m. There's water close by over yonder.
Sort of a sound in there--too narrow to be a bay. Let's have a look. And
the slopes are easiest that way, too."

He led off to the eastward. He thought of Timmy's girl. He'd never seen
her, but Timmy was going to marry her. She was on the _Cerberus_. It was
the job of the cops to take care of whatever dilemma that ship might be
in. As of here and now, it was Sergeant Madden's job. But besides that,
he thought of the way Timmy would feel if anything happened to the girl
he meant to marry. As Timmy's father, the sergeant had to do something.
He wanted to do it fast. But it had to be done the right way.

* * * * *

The route he chose was rocky, but it was nearly the only practicable
route away from the burned-dead landing place. He climbed toward what on
this planet was the east. There were pinnacles and small precipices.
There were small, fleshy-leaved bushes growing out of such tiny
collections of soil as had formed in cracks and crevices in the rock.

Sergeant Madden noted that one s