The brigands--some ten or fifteen of them here on the deck--stood in a ring around us. They were all big men, nearly of a seven-foot average, dressed in leather jerkins and short leather breeches, with bare knees and flaring leatherboots. Piratical swaggering fellows, knife-blades mingled with small hand-projectors fastened to their belts. Gray, heavy faces, some with scraggling, unshaved beard. They plucked at us, jabbering in Martian. One of them seemed the leader. I said sharply, "Are you the commander here? I speak not Ilton[4] well. You speak the Earth English?" [Footnote 4: Ilton, the ruling race and official language of the Martian Union.] "Yes," he said readily, "I am Commander here." He spoke English with the same freedom and accent of Miko. "Is this George Prince's sister?" "Yes. Her name is Anita Prince. Tell your men to take their hands off her." He waved his men away. They all seemed more interested in Anita than in me. He added: "I am Set Potan." He addressed Anita. "George Prince's sister? You are called Anita? I have heard of you. I knew your brother--indeed, you look very much like him." He swept his plumed hat to the grid with a swaggering gesture of homage. A courtierlike fellow this, debonair as a Venus cavalier! He accepted us. I realized that Anita's presence was immensely valuable in making us convincing. Yet there was about this Potan--as with Miko--a disturbing suggestion of irony. I could not make him out. I decided that we had fooled him. Then I remarked the steely glitter of his eyes as he turned to me. "You were an officer of the _Planetara_?" * * * * * The insignia of my rank was visible on my white jacket-collar which showed beneath the Erentz suit, now that my helmet was off. "Yes, I was supposed to be. But a year ago I embarked upon this adventure with Miko." He was leading us to his cabin. "The _Planetara_ wrecked? Miko dead?" "And Hahn and Coniston. George Prince, too--we are the only survivors." While we divested ourselves of our Erentz suits at his command, I told him briefly of the _Planetara's_ fall. All had been killed on board save Anita and me. We had escaped, awaited his coming. The treasure was here; we had located the Grantline camp, and were ready to lead him to it. Did he believe me? He listened quietly. He seemed not shocked at the death of his comrades. Nor yet pleased: merely imperturbable. I added with a sly, sidelong glance, "There were too many of us on the _Planetara_. The purser had joined us, and many of the crew. And there was Miko's sister, the Setta Moa--too many. The treasure divides better among less." An amused smile played on his thin gray lips. But he nodded. The fear which had leaped in me was allayed by his next words. "True enough, Haljan. He was a domineering fellow, Miko. A third of it all was for him alone. But now...." The third would go to this sub-leader, Potan! The implication was obvious.