found."

McIlroy chuckled for the first time in several days. "So that's the reason you didn't take off when you were scheduled," he said.

"Well, yes," Jones answered. "I thought that it might happen that a rocket would be needed in the search."

The light from Earth lighted the Moon as the Moon had never lighted Earth. The great blue globe of Earth, the only thing larger than the stars, wheeled silently in the sky. As it turned, the shadow of sunset crept across the face that could be seen from the Moon. From full Earth, as you might say, it moved toward last quarter.

The rising sun shone into Director McIlroy's office. The hot light formed a circle on the wall opposite the window, and the light became more intense as the sun slowly pulled over the horizon. Mrs. Garth walked into the director's office, and saw the director sleeping with his head cradled in his arms on the desk. She walked softly to the window and adjusted the shade to darken the office. She stood looking at McIlroy for a moment, and when he moved slightly in his sleep, she walked softly out of the office.

A few minutes later she was back with a cup of coffee. She placed it in front of the director, and shook his shoulder gently.

"Wake up, Mr. McIlroy," she said, "you told me to wake you at sunrise, and there it is, and here's Mr. Phelps."

McIlroy woke up slowly. He leaned back in his chair and stretched. His neck was stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position.

"'Morning, Mr. Phelps," he said.

"Good morning," Phelps answered, dropping tiredly into a chair.

"Have some coffee, Mr. Phelps," said Mrs. Garth, handing him a cup.

"Any news?" asked McIlroy.

"About Evans?" Phelps shook his head slowly. "Palomar called in a few minutes back. Nothing to report and the sun was rising there. Australia will be in position pretty soon. Several observatories there. Then Capetown. There are lots of observatories in Europe, but most of them are clouded over. Anyway the satellite observatory will be in position by the time Europe is."

McIlroy was fully awake. He glanced at Phelps and wondered how long it had been since he had slept last. More than that, McIlroy wondered why this banker, who had never met Evans, was losing so much sleep about finding him. It began to dawn on McIlroy that nearly the whole population of Williamson Town was involved, one way or another, in the search.

The director turned to ask Phelps about this fact, but the banker was slumped in his chair, fast asleep with his coffee untouched.

It was three hours later that McIlroy woke Phelps.

"They've found the tractor," McIlroy said.

"Good," Phelps mumbled, and then as comprehension came; "That's fine! That's just line! Is Evans—?"

"Can't tell yet. They spotted the tractor from the satellite observatory. Captain Jones took off a few minutes ago, and he'll report back as soon as he lands. Hadn't you better get some sleep?"

Evans was carrying a block of ice into the tractor when he saw the rocket coming in for a landing. He dropped the block and stood waiting. When the dust settled from around the tail of the rocket, he started to run forward. The air lock opened, and Evans recognized the vacuum suited figure of Nickel Jones.

"Evans, man!" said Jones' voice in the intercom. "Alive you are!"

"A Welshman takes a lot of killing," Evans answered.

Later, in Evans' tractor, he was telling his story:

"... And I don't know how long I sat there after I found the water." He looked at the Goldburgian device he had made out of wire and tubing. "Finally I built this thing. These caves were made of lava. They must have been formed by steam some time, because there's a floor of ice in all of 'em.

"The idea didn't come all at once, it took a long time for me to remember that water is made out of oxygen and hydrogen. When I remembered that, of course, I remembered that it can be separated with electricity. So I built