As he got to his feet, a voice thundered in the room. "Coming aboard for inspection!" The sound came through the walls by radio. "Open space-lock or we blast!" Rusty ran to the adjoining room, swung the lever opening the outside trap. It was barely opened when three men in space outfits entered. They slammed the trap behind them, doffed their helmets, entered the ship. Rusty could have embraced them. Earthmen, shaven and clean.... The men came in, guns drawn. "Keep your hands in the air!" cautioned one with a captain's stripe. He searched Rusty, pistol against his chest. The others went forward. "Wait!" cried Rusty. "You don't understand...." His words died away. A stolen ship--four escaped Plutonian prisoners, three dead. How could they understand? "What a mess," said one, glancing into the other compartment. "Looks like this fellow saved us trouble--killed off his chums before we came!" How should he begin? How could he explain the stolen ship? They would never believe his story. And nine men had been killed in the ship's theft. He had done his part in their death. They searched the ship thoroughly, Rusty closely guarded by the officer. "I am Rusty Carter! I--" "Shut up. We don't care who you are." The patrolmen returned. "No one else aboard," one reported. "Three bodies, two rayed by the same gun. A Venusian pulled apart--he must have been pretty annoyed with him!" Rusty was pushed into a chair. "Okay," said the captain. "Talk! We know you got this boat from the Great Moon near Pluto. We know you've been terrorizing the terrestrial traffic lanes for days. You killed nine men at the Great Moon space port. Where you come from?" As calmly as possible, Rusty told his complete story, from the beginning of his mission in New York to his awakening presence in the ship. Hearing the story, he knew himself it was no good. When he finished the patrolmen laughed. "A good story anyway," said the officer, "but with its flaws. Editor Russell's dead and you can prove nothing. You lie! You could not have escaped Pluto, even in the fantastic way you said. And you might have waded the sea but no man could survive the jungle of the Great Moon. Then, of course, you and your bloody crew _have_ been preying upon the commerce lines for two days, destroyed one liner. Even the bodies in there could convict you of murder. Give up, lad. You're a goner!" Rusty sought vainly for belief. They must believe him! He could not return to Pluto again. Without further ceremony, he was forced into a space suit. "You know the law concerning piracy _or_ murder in the space lanes, of course," said the Captain, adjusting his helmet. "Interplanetary law authorizes _death at apprehension_." It could not be. But he was carried to the patrol ship, locked in a guarded cell. * * * * *