"Sure, and we're off, Mr. Bullard. Now do ye come up here and tell me
all about it--but I warn you, I'll not be believin' a word--"

CHAPTER III

_Up From Earth_

Chet had plenty of time in which to acquaint Pilot O'Malley with the
facts. And, when he had told his story, it did his sick and worried
mind good to hear the explosive stream of expletives that came from the
other's lips. Yet, despite the Irishman's anger, it was noticeable that
he closed the tight door of the control room before he said a word.

"Only a skeleton crew," he explained. "Just the relief pilot and the
engineers and a man or two in the galley, and I trust 'em all. But you
can't be too careful.

"The Commander," he concluded, "is gettin' to be more an emperor than a
Commander, and somethin's got to be done. Discipline we must have, 'tis
true; but this kotowin' to His Royal Highness and all o' that--devil a
bit do I like it! If only you could show him up, Mr. Bullard--but of
course you can't."

"I'm not so sure," Chet responded. "What I told the big boss wasn't all
bluff. Haldgren _did_ go out, five years ago this month. We have the
record of a Crescent liner's captain who saw Haldgren's little ship
shoot through the R.A. and go on out as if it were going somewhere. And
now we have these flashes!

"Do you see what that means, Spud? An SOS! Nobody but an Earth-man would
send that, and we wouldn't do it now. We would just press the lever of
our emergency-call, and every receiver within a thousand miles would
pick up the scream of it.

"But we've had this Dunston Emergency Transmitter less than four years.
Haldgren knew only the old S O S. And remember this: three dots, three
dashes and three dots don't just happen. They showed up on the Moon.
They were repeated the next night. _Somebody sent them!_ Who was it?"

* * * * *

And Pilot O'Malley gave the only obvious answer:

"There's only yourself and Mr. Harkness and Pilot Haldgren that could
have got there. 'Twas Haldgren, of course! What a pity that you can't
go; 'tis likely the poor bhoy needs help."

"Five years!" mused Chet. "Five long years since he left! He must have
landed safely--and then what? After five years comes a signal and that
signal a call for help that no pilot worthy the name would disregard....

"Where are we bound?" he demanded abruptly.

"Rooshia," said O'Malley. "I disremember the name--'tis on my
orders--but I know it's