o telling how many
others there were on Algon, besides all those back on Simonides, and who
knew what other planets, who were in on this plot.

His heart clamored for swift action--his brain counselled caution and
careful planning.

Chapter 15

Hanlon was sitting at his usual place in the mine one day when one of
the barrow-men ran up and spoke swiftly to Geck, who turned to Hanlon,
alarm on his face. "Big boss man come."

Hanlon jumped to his feet. "Get everyone to work; tell them to act real
busy!" he snapped. "You, too!"

He thrust the frequency-transformer into a hole prepared for just such
an emergency, grabbed up his shock-rod and stepped closer to the
natives. He was standing there, to all appearances strictly on the job
of making his charges work, when Philander came crawling up the rise
into the pocket where this crew was mining the glossy, lustrous
pitch-blank uraninite ore.

"How're things going?" the superintendent greeted Hanlon with at least
the appearance of friendliness.

"Just fine," the young man responded. "Everything's under control."

"Been looking over the reports, and see your crew is getting out more
ore'n any of the others," the super's voice held just a tinge of
anxiety, and Hanlon began probing that mind to see if he could discover
just what all this portended.

"I just keep 'em at it," he shrugged.

"No trouble?"

"Nope, no trouble. Look at 'em," he waved his hand at the busy crew.

The big man regarded them closely, and could see that every single one
of the natives was working at what he knew was their top speed, and
without a single slacker. Even the barrow-men were moving almost at a
jog-trot rather than the lazy saunter most natives used in an effort to
do no more than they were forced to do.

Philander shook his head wonderingly. "How d'you do it?" he asked. "The
other guards have to keep shocking one after another of the lazy dogs,
yet you've made no move at a single one--and they keep right on
hustling. I've never seen a crew work so hard."

Hanlon wanted desperately to tell him, but he decided the time was not
yet. So he merely shrugged the question away as of little consequence.
"I dunno, sir. I just stand around watching 'em, and they work." He
grinned into the super's face. "Must be my manly charms--er sumpin'," he
chuckled. Then sobered. "Maybe one reason is that I rotate 'em. Any job
gets monotonous, so every hour or so I let 'em change around, from pic