"What are you fellows up to now?" he asked. "Leo, don't you ever sleep?" "Sure, when necessary. You have been sleeping for twelve hours, doc. Did we wake you up?" "Twelve hours! No, it was probably my conscience. What's the idea of window curtains? We haven't even a door, so it can't be privacy." "We were screening out the sunlight Leo didn't want," answered Arthur. "He was trying to get the sun's spectrum, and just wanted a narrow beam through the grating." "Did you get it?" "Sure." It was Leo speaking again. "And we found a use for the razor. The edges of the blades are good for making a slit for the beam. This fellow, of course, didn't have anything in that wonderful testing kit that would do. By the way, Art, have you still got the kit, or did our friends take it last night?" "Someone poked around in it," Arthur answered, "but they left it here. Maybe they thought there was nothing in it that we could put to use." "I think they would have left it, anyway," remarked the doctor, grinning at the expressions of unbelief on the two faces. Leo walked over to his brother's sleeping bag and took the kit box from the pack. "You know best, doc. In that case, I'm going to have a look, and find out if there's anything useful that Art forgot to mention--Art, you dope!" "What's wrong now?" asked the technician, without moving. "The welder and the stroboscope you spoke of--they're gone! And you said the guards must have decided the stuff was harmless. What do we do now?" "The welder and stroboscope are in my pockets, and have been since last night. You thought of the stuff's being taken, didn't you? And did you _ever_ think of anything without my beating you to it? You worry about your own department; I can take care of mine, I hope." The last phrase was stimulated by an amused glance from the doctor. * * * * * They strolled out into the mixed crowd of humans and pentapods in the corridor, and Arthur went over to the kitchen. He appeared to have taken on permanently the job of cook's helper. Little located the quartermaster, and began discussing the day's possibilities. They seemed to be few. Most of the crew were specialists of one sort or another, experts in the fields of knowledge and activity necessary to fly and fight an interstellar cruiser; but one and all were hampered by lack of materials and tools. The only way to get these appeared to be theft, at which the crew of the _Gomeisa_ were not specialists. The only advice Little could give was that the men should do their best to smuggle in materials, to the exclusion of other occupations, and any one who had a workable idea should let the others know what he needed to work it. Not very helpful, since everybody already had that idea. It looked as though time would pass rather boringly.