Marlin eyed him with distaste. "As far as you are concerned," he said slowly, "nothing. There's only one reason why I denied myself the pleasure of letting you know the fate in store for you--and that's because I knew you were so yellow you'd spill it and frighten the rest." "Yellow, eh!" McGruder jumped to his feet in a rage. He appealed to the group. "What do you think of this bird--and a couple of others I could mention--" he glanced meaningly at DuChane and Sally--"gettin' their heads together to figger out a way of savin' theirselves while the rest of us is left to rot in this stinkin' blob of mud? How's that for yellow?" DuChane laughed mirthlessly. "If there's any comfort in the knowledge," he said, "there'll be no escape for any of us. The mud coating has a faculty of digesting every inert substance it contacts. Very convenient for taking care of our waste products--but unfortunate because it applies also to our habitation." "You mean it's gonna eat through the shell?" demanded Link, his weasel eyes glittering. Marlin shrugged. "But we gotta do something! Does Eli know?" The slinky one peered around the table, finding no reassurance in any of the blank faces. He gulped and subsided. Later, he and McGruder constituted themselves a delegation to lay the problem before the scientist. Eli had practically barricaded himself in the control room. At his bellowed command meals were brought to him at irregular intervals by Maw Barstow. He rarely appeared outside of his retreat, except when he ventured forth briefly for a peep through the periscope. "What'd he say?" demanded DuChane, when the two returned from their self-imposed mission. "None o' your business!" McGruder snarled. "The old coot don't seem to get it," complained Link. "All he done was to rant about how they gypped him when they sold him the steel." The pale-featured outlaw girl, Norma, taking a listless turn along the ramp in a robe provided from Maw Barstow's meager store, was an inadvertent listener to this exchange. She seemed inclined to brush by, but suddenly her deep-set eyes glowed with fire. "It's a joke!" she contributed unexpectedly. "You save me from the law, doctor up my carcass--and for what?" "Does seem rather futile," agreed Marlin, sympathetically. He reflected that as her hair grew longer she was becoming a great deal more feminine in appearance. The wound in her neck was by now little more than a scar. * * * * * Under his scrutiny, her lips tightened and she abruptly walked away. DuChane's eyes followed until she disappeared behind the curtain which served as a doorway for her sleeping compartment. "Y'know," he volunteered, "there's something about that kid I could almost tumble for." "Cut it out!" was Marlin's sharp response. "What do you mean?" Marlin did not answer. He was, in fact, puzzled to know why he had spoken.