a moment Marnay saw horror in the other's eyes. Then Kennett continued: "You know, Marnay, when a Patrol man applies for leave after a job like that, and stays drunk for a week, nothing is thought of it. I didn't even apply for leave. I simply left duty, and I stayed drunk for a month, not a week. After which, headquarters told me I was relieved from duty permanently. I didn't care. Not any more." Marnay waited. He knew Kennett hadn't finished. For a single instant, the space of a memory, Kennett caught his breath in his throat; then: "You see," he said, turning away, "the girl I loved was on that liner; and I found her. She was returning to Earth and we were to be married. Her name was Vera, too." The Vera lumbered along at about half speed. The fourth day they passed beyond the asteroid belt. "Double duty now," Kennett pronounced grimly. "It may be only a matter of hours until Prather sights us—but I want to be sure of sighting him first!" "Okay!" Marnay said. From then on, one of the men stayed always by the visipanel, manipulating the dial which magnified space for a thousand mile radius. But all remained a vast swimming blackness. An occasional meteor flashed across, but no sign of any spaceship. Once Marnay, at the controls, gave a few experimental blasts with the rocket speeds. The Vera jerked a little. At once Kennett was leaping to his side, spinning him around in the seat. "What the hell!" he yelled, his face a little pale. "Do you want to—" He didn't finish, but turned away, as the rockets purred smoothly again. Marnay smiled to himself. Had Kennett been about to say, "blow us up?" Was that the secret of the Vera? Maybe. Marnay grew serious as he pondered on it—the rest of the ship back there which Kennett had shut off. Suppose the ship was full of Tynyte space-bombs? Marnay remembered the Patrol's encounters with Prather. They'd tried atom-blasts at first, but before they could take effect the tough pirate ship slid from beneath them like an eel in oil. Then they had tried Tynyte bombs. But the pirate ship was reputedly so fast that not one of the bombs could reach its mark with any effectiveness. How could Kennett, then, in the plodding Vera, hope to succeed with