Adam had returned from the damaged compartment in time to catch the close of the broadcast as he was stripping off the space suit in which he was making the examination. Dog-tired, he had just switched off the light preparatory to turning in when the light and buzzer flashed at the door. "It's me, Jake," came a voice. The First Mate switched on the light, and called: "Come in." A small man, his face seamed by a thousand wrinkles, slipped through the door almost furtively and stood, twisting his hands in the audition helmet which enabled him to hear in the engine room above the noise of the motors. "Didn't think you'd be in bed so soon, Mr. Adam," he apologized. "But you always was an early retirer. I remember when I had you on the training ship--he--he--he." He ended on a kind of nervous little giggle, and Adam looked at him sharply. "Yes, I remember. I couldn't cork off for a minute without hearing someone pounding on the door and you yelling, 'It's Jake Burchall! Time to get up'" His face sobered. "You didn't come here to talk about old times, Jake. What's on your mind?" "Well, you know how one thing and another gets around on a long run like this. I didn't know but maybe there was something I could help you about, sort of, he--he--he." "Afraid not, Jake. Everything on hand is up to me. You can tell me one thing, though. I was just in from the Mars run when I found my name posted for this expedition, and I never did hear whose place I got as First Mate on this trip. Do you know who it was?" "Didn't nobody tell you that? It was Blagovitch." "Why, he's one of the most cautious men in the service! What happened to him?" "Bruk his foot. He-he-he. There was some said he did it on purpose." "But what could Old Steel-Wall--that is, why did the Captain pick him in the first place?" "Well, Mr. Adam, there's a lot of things about this trip ain't the same as an ordinary run. I wonder myself sometimes. The Cap'n, he picks a course way out of the ecliptic to dodge planetoids he didn't stand one chance in a million of hitting anyhow; and he picks him a mighty cautious mate, and then he picks him a young mate when the other one can't go. What's he 'fraid of?" "He's afraid of failing, that's all, Jake." "He-he-he. Well, maybe I'm a old fool. I'd say it was more like he was 'fraid of succeeding." * * * * *