The going was just a trifle more difficult than covering rocky ground would have been on Earth: Vickers had figured Hastur’s gravity as 125% that of Earth. “Hold it,” called out Edgar, punctuating the exclamation by easing himself onto the asteroid’s surface. “Does anyone know where we’re going?” “We’re off to find the Hartnetts,” said Dorothy. “How nice. And where, pray, may they be?” “Right here—somewhere.” “Lovely,” drawled Edgar, “just lovely. Have any of you stopped to consider how many days and how many weary miles you can cover on this not-as-small-as-it-looks world without finding anything at all except blisters?” “We tried to contact them,” cut in Nick, “but not a peep out of the radio at all. The thing just went dead.” “I’ll have to admit,” continued Edgar, “that at the very moment I can’t think of any better procedure than just striking out in any direction at once. But I rest assured that there is a better way. Therefore, I move that we take it easy until we find one.” “We could use the ship,” said Dorothy. “Inadvisable,” objected Nick. “Something tells me we are going to have trouble getting away from this little fiend of a planetoid.” “How about rocket cameras?” cut in Dorothy. “Huh?” “I can make them. We’ll use just enough fuel to send them up half a mile or so. They’ll take pictures, then glide down. We’ll keep an eye on them and see where they land; Edgar will also take calculations while they’re up—they’ll be sort of periscopic photos. Of course we’ll get our ship, but we may spot the other one.” Nick tapped the rocky surface pondering. “Only thing wrong with that is: why didn’t we see the ship on the way down? We had a much bigger perspective.” “Perhaps too big. Besides we were too well occupied otherwise.” “Okay,” sighed Nick. “I can’t see any reason for not trying it.” CHAPTER III MENACE UNSEEN Dorothy clasped Nick’s hand as firmly as hands can be clasped when swathed in space-mitts. “If the photo didn’t deceive us, the ship should be over this ridge.” Nick nodded, shot an impatient glance at the others straggling up the slight incline. Together he and Dorothy mounted the acclivity, peered anxiously at the sweep below. A little scream of delight came from Dorothy’s lips, “There, Nick!” No doubt about it. The lost Orion lay, partly concealed by upcroppings of rock, less than a mile away. Hastily they made their way down the decline, ran in awkward, elephantine steps toward it. As they approached they could see how beaten and scarred it looked. They bounded to the port and breathlessly clanged upon it. It was shut tightly. Impatiently they beat upon it until finally it swooshed open and they filed into the airlock. Imperturbably the outer door snapped close behind them, clamlike, and painfully slow the inner port dragged itself open. The lost Orion!