astonished young Wilson stared at me in numbed amazement. "They're coming into the open," I murmured. "Look here, Captain, we've got to plan—"

"Why—why, good Lord—I thought we were guarding against a plot on the Moon—"

"Well, we're not. It's here—now—" I told him what Nina had said; five of the crew. The new men, placed here on board. And how many of the officers might be in it—

"Why—why good Lord—" Mackensie was completely stricken. For an instant that floored me. I saw him now as a Captain of the old school—bluff, roaring; the sort of fellow who on a surface vessel would deal grimly and ruthlessly with mutineers. But he was frightened now; frightened and confused.

"Why—why Penelle—you mean to think that here on my ship—"

"Ready to strike—now," I murmured. I told him about the burned place on the helio room door. He could only stare, numbed. And now the murder of Bentley—the first tangible attack our adversaries had made. Who were they? Five of the crew—that would include the hunchback Durk ... Mokk, the Martian? Ollog Torio, the pallid Venus man? Some of the other passengers maybe? And of the ship's officers, whom could we trust?

"Why—why all of them, by God," Mackensie murmured, as I voiced it. "I wouldn't have traitors on my staff—"

But this treasure of the T-catalyst—it might be worth a million decimars to the Venus revolutionists. And money can buy men—even men who have long been in honest service. The Second Officer—fat, jolly little Peter Green—he perhaps could be trusted. James Polter, the Purser? Of him I could not guess. Dr. Fyre, the Surgeon? Even with a plugged, counterfeit thousandth part of a decimar, I wouldn't take my eyes off him.

The handsome young giant, Wilson, stood gazing at us now in blank horror. He was hardly more than a boy. Quite evidently he knew completely nothing of what was going on.

"But what are we going to do?" Mackensie was stammering. Then he spluttered, "By the God's I won't have this sort of thing on my ship. I'll muster them all up here—find out who this damned murderer is—"

I seized him. "Easy Captain." Then I bent closer to him. "Captain Mackensie—things I don't understand yet about this. That big box in Miss Blake's room—" And on impulse I whispered: "Someone was climbing out her window a while ago. She called him Jim. She's in terror of him. Captain, see here, you've got to 

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