He found the hole where the bridge had been, but Murphy, Stoller and Cass were gone. A hundred yards away the _Martian_ was maneuvering for another shot. Larry ran back to the others. "They're gone," he bit out. "And we're slated for the same if we hold out any longer. Let's grab the scout and head for the _Friar_. Maybe we can get back here before Haggard guts this barge." All three men seemed to sense the cessation of the _Astral's_ rolling at the same instant. They glanced dumbly at each other. _What had caused the pirate to stop its barrage?_ All at once, Jeff was pointing, yelling like a madman. Cheers broke from the others' throats. With the swift grace of a bullet, the _Friar Bacon_ was shooting across the sky in pursuit of Haggard's ship! For a few minutes it was like watching a pair of clever fencers feint and lunge. The speed of the ships went for little now. It was the daring and skill of the man at the controls that spelled victory or defeat. But in the end it was the _Martian_ that drew off. A shot ripped away most of a scout carrier and showed Brand Haggard, temporarily, at least, that he was bucking a tougher, smarter man. Carlyle did not chase him. Such a pursuit, zig-zagging on full throttles through space, could easily last a week. He brought the big cruiser alongside the wrecked _Astral_ and the survivors sprang aboard. VI Larry, Jeff, and Abe were pounded on the back by their companions, while eager hands dropped to the derelict to begin the transfer of cargo. "You three better hie yourselves down to the galley and get some grub," Carlyle grinned. Jeff and Abe took him at his word; but Larry, lingering, asked Carlyle pointedly: "How's Ann? She was pretty sick when I left her." He would have taken oath that the salvage boss' dark eyes flinched. Those piercing eyes searched his face for an instant before Carlyle replied. Finally: "Not so good, Captain," he said. "Why don't you look at her? Might do a lot for her, you know." "I'm afraid I don't know, sir," Larry Wolfe ground out. "I seemed to be so much excess cargo last time." He turned stiffly and passed him. But, drawn by something more powerful than his wounded pride, he went straight to Ann's room and knocked softly. A voice so weak he scarcely recognized it answered him. Larry went in. Ann was lying back against the pillows. The deathly pallor of her face caused him to start. "Ann!" he groaned. "What is it? What's happening to you?" The girl's bloodless features did not warm at sight of him. But a strain of fear coursed through her throaty tones. "I don't know," she whispered. Her fingers went to toying with the little heart lying against her throat.