The view ahead was utterly unfamiliar. Strange stars and constellations glowed in the void. Far off to his left was the white radiance of a spiral nebula. To the right, the galaxies seemed to blend in a bewildering array of light and matter, stretching on into infinitude. Standish's knowledge of cosmography was limited. He knew that straight lines connecting Sirius with Procyon and Betelguese would constitute a nearly equilateral triangle. He knew, too, that Betelguese, Sirius and Regel--all of the first magnitude--formed a lozenge-shaped figure, with Orion's belt in the center. But try as he would, he could locate none of these stellar landmarks. * * * * * Turning, he looked for the liner's log. With information as to the ship's time of departure from Earth and an average calculation of her speed, he might hope to chart his position. The log, however, had not been filled out. The Sirians apparently had grown careless in their repeated trips through space. Standish's teeth came down hard on his pipe stem. He was lost! Hopelessly lost! A solitary spark of life in a man-made projectile, wandering the immensities of the Universe. Mechanically, the Earthman set the automatic directionscope for a larger spot of light far ahead and threw in the massmeter which would effectually warn him of any body within collision range in his path. Had the liner pilot paid attention to that dial, he reflected, the crash might have been avoided. Stars paraded, swung past. The Big Dipper flamed away, curiously changed in outlines. Or was it the Big Dipper? Standish didn't know. Material thoughts supplanted cosmic ones then. There was work to be done, ghoulish work which common decency demanded he perform. The dead must be disposed of. It was a hard task, and he accomplished it by carrying the bodies of the Sirian officers and crew to the baggage chamber in the stern and casting them free through the airlock. On the second level which had held the Earth prisoners the work was even more difficult. Heavy bars and plates had to be lifted free. But at length Standish stood alone on the ship. He recognized the gnawing sensation in his midsection then as hunger. Finding the galley supplied with both fresh meats and vegetables as well as food concentrates, he ate well. The food served to restore some of his confidence. When he returned to the pilot cuddy, he saw that the bright spot for which he had set the directionscope had enlarged to a great orange globe that covered the entire glassite shield. Even as he watched, the outlines of land and seas took form. The needle of the massmeter began to quiver spasmodically, but Standish held to his course. It had occurred to him that this world might possibly be inhabited and that he might obtain aid for his return to Earth, or at least the proper directions.