class="pnext">"Only not with each other." she said. "It was, so to speak, a lost art." She glanced at Blunt. Several men squirmed. "But it is one that we have regained," she said.

"And what will you do with us?" Flandeau asked.

"We have decided to let you go," she said. "Now that we possess this weapon,"—she brandished the Blaster—"which we can copy, we think we can prevent more Explorations. At least this is the opinion of the Eleven. So I am instructed to let you leave—at once, of course."

"You are most charming," said Flandeau.

"At once," she repeated.

"Yes, of course. Men! Prepare for blastoff!"

The way back was tedious—the floating around, the boredom, the unending blackness of space—but at least it was going home. After the first weeks of space-sickness, things returned to near normal, and the Doctors conferred with the Colonel. It was decided that the best report should be that Engraham was uninviting, bleak, and of no interest to Earthmen. The reputations of all were at stake (the doctors found themselves, stripped of their papers, unable to recollect enough, and the Colonel desperately feared a court-martial) and the crew was thus advised. All agreed to keep their mouths shut. Thus their honorable discharges, medals, and life-time pensions would be safe.

So, with all this decided, and Earth only a few months away, relative cheerfulness reigned. Only Willy Lanham continued to mope.

"What's biting you?" Kosalowsky asked, one day as they lay strapped in adjacent bunks. "Your face is as long as this ship."

"I just feel bad," Willy said. "I can feel bad if I want to, can't I?"

"What the hell, we'll soon be home. We can really raise some hell, then."

"I miss my girl," Willy blurted out.

"You'll see her pretty soon."

"I mean my girl on Engraham."

It happened that just then several other men, bored with lying still, were floating past. They gripped the edges of Willy's bunk.

"You mean you had," Kosalowsky said cunningly, "a girl on Engraham?"

"Sure I did," said Willy defensively. "Didn't all you guys?"

More and more men joined the knot of bodies around Willy's bunk. The atmosphere became distinctly menacing.

"You mean you didn't?" Willy said. "You mean it wasn't a gag we were pulling on Blunt?"

They were silent. One pair of floating hands neared Willy's throat.

"Honest," he said. "I didn't think you were that dumb. I thought you were just letting Blunt make an ass of himself. I thought that—well, it was so easy. I even told Dick a couple of times. You just had to make a grab for 'em."

Pane suddenly let out a harsh sound, like the cry of a wounded bull.

"So who was this frail?" Kosalowsky asked heavily.

"Yeah!" echoed the others.

"Well, she was just a frail, I guess," Willy said. "I used to see her around the ship. On guard duty. I used to see her all the time. What the hell," he said, "You think I'm dumb or something? Why'd you think I was willing to stand guard all the time?"

END