St. Simon waited for a few minutes to make sure the resin had set completely. Then he clambered outside again and attached a heavy towing cable to the eye of the anchor, which projected above the surface of the asteroid. Back inside the ship again, he slowly applied power. The cable straightened and pulled at the anchor as the _Nancy Bell_ tried to get away from the asteroid. "Jules, old bunion," he said as he watched the needle of the tension gauge, "we have set her well." "Yes, m'lud. So it would appear, m'lud." St. Simon cut the power. "Very good, Jules. Now we shall see if the beeper is functioning as it should." He flipped a switch that turned on the finder pickup, then turned the selector to his own frequency band. _Beep!_ said the radio importantly. _Beep!_ The explosion had also triggered on a small but powerful transmitter built into the anchor. The tugs would be able to find the planetoid by following the beeps. "Ah, Jules! Success!" "Yes, m'lud. Success. For the tenth time in a row, this trip. And how many trips does this make?" "Ah, but who's counting? Think of the money!" "And the monotony, m'lud. To say nothing of molasses, muchness, and other things that begin with an M." "Quite so, Jules; quite so. Well, let's detach the towing cable and be on our way." "Whither, m'lud, Vesta?" "I rather thought Pallas this time, old thimble." "Still, m'lud, Vesta--" "Pallas, Jules." "Vesta?" "Hum, hi, ho," said Captain St. Simon thoughtfully. "Pallas?" The argument continued while the tow cable was detached from the freshly-placed anchor, and while the air was being let back into the control chamber, and while St. Simon divested himself of his suit. Actually, although he would like to go to Vesta, it was out of the question. Energywise and timewise, Pallas was much closer. He settled back in the bucket seat and shot toward Pallas. * * * * *