much of a risk, because
the road can't be seen for long distances there."

Scotty asked, "But why did the men handle us so gently last night? They
didn't rough us up, especially. And one of them said we could get
loose."

"You didn't see them, did you?" Preston countered. "It was too dark. So
there was no danger of your identifying them. Why add murder or mayhem
to the list of charges when you gain nothing?"

John Gordon stirred restlessly. "We'd better end this meeting. If the
boys are associated with us, and especially with you, Tom, it will mean
an end to their usefulness."

"You're right, John." Preston looked at the boys. "The biggest value you
have is as free agents. I won't try to keep you posted on all my
activities. And don't bother trying to contact me, or John, about what
you're doing. It's too dangerous--unless you turn up a definite lead.
Meanwhile, go on as you have been. I'd say you were doing fine. Just be
careful. These men may have been gentle last night when they had nothing
to lose, but that doesn't mean it's a way of life with them. Now scoot.
And try not to be seen leaving."

The boys shook hands and started out, but Rick paused at the door and
said something that had been on his mind since the Orion disaster.

"There's one thing. Let's hope that when the Earthman finally trips up,
it won't be in front of everybody, especially after a shoot that he's
just sabotaged. Otherwise, we'll never get a chance to question him.
He'll be dead--lynched on the spot by the rocketeers!"

CHAPTER XIII

Fly the Winged Horse!

Rick held a servomotor in place while Phil Sherman, one of the other
technicians, bolted it securely.

"There you are," Phil said. "Anything else?"

"That does it. Thanks, Phil. I can wire it up now." Rick got to work,
connecting up the newly installed servo. Like other servomotors it was
tiny and powerful, translating electronic signals into mechanical
actions. This particular one was no larger than a spool of thread, but
it would actuate control tabs on the wings of Pegasus. Other motors
ranged in size from even smaller to quite large ones about as big as a
gallon can. The small ones were terrifically expensive, probably the
reason they had been attractive to the Earthman and his gang.

When Rick was finished with the simple connections, he called Dr. Bond.
The elderly scientist checked carefully, then nodded approval.

Phil Sherman stuck his head in the door. "Dick E