He closed his window upon an American woman passenger who was demanding the details of Martian currency, and followed me forward. "What is it, Gregg?" "I don't know." Captain Carter banged the slide upon us. The chart room was insulated. The hum of the current was obvious. Johnson noticed it. He stared at the hostile faces of the surgeon and Balch. And he tried to bluster. "What's this? Something wrong?" Carter wasted no words. "We have information, Johnson, that there's some undercover plot aboard. I want to know what it is. Suppose you tell us." The purser looked blank. "What do you mean? We've gamblers aboard, if that's--" "To hell with that," growled Balch. "You had a secret interview with that Martian, _Set_ Miko, and with George Prince!" Johnson scowled from under his heavy brows, and then raised them in surprise. "Did I? You mean changing their money? I don't like your tone, Balch. I'm not your under-officer!" "But you're under me!" roared the Captain. "By God, I'm master here!" "Well, I'm not disputing that," said the purser mildly. "This fellow--" "We're in no mood for argument," Dr. Frank cut in. "Clouding the issue...." "I won't let it be clouded," the Captain exclaimed. I had never seen Carter so choleric. He added: "Johnson, you've been acting suspiciously. I don't give a damn whether I've proof of it or not. Did you or did you not meet George Prince and that Martian, last night?" "No, I did not. And I don't mind telling you, Captain Carter, that your tone also is offensive!" "Is it?" Carter seized him. They were both big men. Johnson's heavy face went purplish red. "Take your hands--!" They were struggling. Carter's hands were fumbling at the purser's pockets. I leaped, flung an arm around Johnson's neck, pinning him. "Easy there! We've got you, Johnson!" Snap tried to help me. "Go on! Bang him on the head, Gregg. Now's your chance!" We searched him. A heat ray cylinder--that was legitimate. But we found a small battery and eavesdropping device similar to the one Venza had mentioned that Shac the gambler was carrying. "What are you doing with that?" the Captain demanded. "None of your business! Is it criminal? Carter, I'll have the line officials dismiss you for this! Take your hands off me--all of you!" "Look at this!" exclaimed Dr. Frank. From Johnson's breast pocket the surgeon drew a folded document. It was a scale drawing of the _Planetara_ interior corridors, the lower control rooms and mechanisms. It was always kept in Johnson's safe. And with it, another document: the ship's clearance papers--the secret code passwords for this voyage, to be used if we should be challenged by any Interplanetary Police ship. Snap gasped, "My God, that was in my radio room strong box! I'm the only one on this vessel except the Captain who's entitled to know those passwords!" Out of the silence, Balch demanded, "Well, what about it, Johnson?"