m sure he's going to be fine for my spirit.
Thank you, sir."

* * * * *

Her eyes traveled suddenly beyond him, toward the car entrance. Blake
turned and his face lighted at the sight of the tall, elderly man coming
toward them. Walter Ferrell had aged since he last saw him, but the
snow-white head, slim waist and wiry legs were the same. Ferrell came
forward, a look of cold hostility in his eyes. Then he recognized the
easy figure slouched in the chair opposite his daughter. A keen smile
lighted his features.

"Jeff Blake!" His hand shot out. "My God, boy, you're good to look at."

Blake was on his feet, one hand in Ferrell's, the other on the older
man's shoulder.

"And you!" he said. "The man who went to riches while I was kicking
around as a space tramp in every port of the universe."

Dauna moved gracefully, swiftly to her father's side.

"Tell Dad how I greeted you," she blushed prettily. "Dad, I think Jeff
had better go back to the moon. He and Wade will be quarreling over me
if I go on acting the same way I started out today."

Ferrell paid no attention to Dauna's outburst. Yet, the mention of
Wade's name sent smouldering fires into his eyes. He changed the subject
abruptly. Drawing Blake down to the chair beside him he said.

"Tell me boy, what's happened since you left? I want to hear the whole
story."

Blake talked. As he related the story of his past ten years away from
earth, he watched O'Toole and Dauna, seated together a few seats away.
They were discussing Wade, he knew. Although he talked with Walter
Ferrell, Blake's thoughts were with O'Toole, Wade and the girl, Dauna.

"Walter," he asked suddenly. "What's wrong with Wade? Has he been in
trouble?"

Ferrell tipped a tired head back against the cushion of his chair.

"Nothing," he said slowly. "At least, nothing I can put my finger on."

"Then," Blake insisted, "from what O'Toole says, you've both been pretty
tough on him. That is, if you're telling me the truth."

"Damn it, Blake," Ferrell exploded. "When I say nothing, I mean we
haven't caught him violating any laws. It's--well, I just never had any
admiration for Wade. He's what the younger generation would call a cream
puff. Soft, flabby and a mind that refuses to grasp any problem fitted
to a man of his age."

Blake stared out the window, waiting. The mono had pulled out of Hope.
Outside nothing was visible in the night except an occasional jagged
p