Harkness did not answer at once. Instead he crossed to the newscaster in its compact, metal case. The voice was still speaking softly; at a touch of a switch it ceased, and in the silence came the soft rush of sound that meant the telautotype had taken up its work. Beneath a glass a paper moved, and words came upon it from a hurricane of type-bars underneath. The instrument was printing the news story as rapidly as any voice could speak it. Harkness read the words for an instant, then let the paper pass on to wind itself upon a spool. It had still been telling of the gigantic hoax that this eccentric American had attempted and Harkness repeated the words. "A hoax!" he exclaimed, and his eyes, for a moment, flashed angrily beneath the dark hair that one hand had disarranged. "I would like to take that facetious bird out about a thousand miles and let him play around with the serpents we met. But, why get excited? This is all Schwartzmann's doing. The tentacles of that man's influence, reach out like those of an octopus." * * * * * Chet ranged himself alongside. Tall and slim and blond, he contrasted strongly with this other man, particularly in his own quiet self-control as against Harkness' quick-flaring anger. "Take it easy, Walt," he advised. "We'll show them. But I judge that you have been razzed a bit. It's a pretty big story for them to swallow without proof. Why didn't you show them the ship? Or why didn't you let Diane and me back up your yarn? And you haven't answered my other questions: when do we go back?" Harkness took the queries in turn. "I didn't show the old boat," he explained, "because I'm not ready for that yet. I want it kept dark--dark as the Dark Moon. I want to do my preliminary work there before Schwartzmann and his experts see our ship. He would duplicate it in a hurry and be on our trail. "And now for our plans. Well, out there in space the Dark Moon is waiting. Have you realized, Chet, that we own that world--you and Diane and I? Small--only half the size of our old moon--but what a place! And it's ours! "Back in history--you remember?--an ambitious lad named Alexander sighed for more worlds to conquer. Well, we're going Alexander one better--we've found the world. We're the first ever to go out into space and return again. "We'll go back there, the three of us. We will take no others along--not yet. We will explore and make our plans for development; and we will keep it to ourselves until we are ready to hold it against any opposition. "And now, how soon can you go? Your injury--how soon will you be well enough?" "Right now," Chet told him laconically; "to-day, if you say the word. They've got me welded together so I'll hold, I reckon. But where's the ship? What have you done--" He broke off abruptly to listen-- * * * * *