keep on studying. I'll
bet you'll be able to do a lot more before long."

"I sure hope so," Hanlon slowly unfastened the aiguellettes and removed
the sword and belt, laying them on the corner of the big desk. At touch
of that weapon he suddenly realized what he had done with it, and
shuddered, while his face grew white and strained.

"What's the matter?" the admiral asked anxiously.

"I ... killed ... a ... man," Hanlon trembled.

"No! You killed a snake!" Admiral Rogers laid his arm comfortingly about
the younger man's shoulders. "It isn't the same at all. Don't let it
bother you."

Hanlon tried manfully to rise from his dark mood. "You're right, in a
way, sir, and I'll try to look at it that way. As to the mind-reading,
I'll keep on trying, and I hope I can prove of some use."

The admiral patted his shoulder encouragingly. "You will. Dismiss."

Chapter 4

The cadets were all keyed up about graduation, now so near, and most of
them were cramming at every opportunity on the subjects in which they
felt themselves deficient. Such tenseness is natural before any final
examinations, but in their case more so than it would have been in an
ordinary school or university.

For not until the final marks were posted from these last examinations,
plus their marks for the entire five years, would any of them--except
Hanlon, of course--know for a surety that he would be graduated and
become a permanent member of the Inter-Stellar Corps. And how intensely
each of them wanted to belong!

Four days had now passed since George Hanlon's fateful interview with
the Commandant of Cadets, and its unexpected outcome. He could hardly
believe, even yet, that he was now actually a member of the unknown
Secret Service of the Corps.

Only the great inner joy he knew at the recovery of his once-adored dad,
and the complete dismissal of all those black hatreds, gave proof that
it wasn't all a fantastic dream.

Hanlon hadn't experienced anything unusual in the cadet routine, and was
growing more and more nervous as to just what was to happen to him. He
still shivered every time he thought of that coming, dreaded ordeal. And
all this waiting, this worrying, this wondering when--it wasn't making
life any easier. If only they would get it over and done with!

But he strove to compose himself for it as best he could, and it was a
measure of his inherent stability that he never let his comrades, even
his roommate, see how apprehe