"Two to one it means a crackup," he commented. "Unless Eli knows how to guide this shebang--and I don't believe he does." Nevertheless, they reported the approaching crisis to the inventor. Eli had grown more eccentric as the voyage continued. His hair and beard were wilder; he talked incoherently. When he had assured himself that they were actually approaching a stellar body, he displayed a great deal of energy, rushing from periscope to control room and back again; but they had no way of knowing the result of this activity, and received scant satisfaction from his impatient responses to questions. "My private opinion," Marlin observed, later, "is that his instruments have no more control over this vessel than if we'd left them in that pit back on Earth. All connections must have burned out in that incredible burst of power that hurled us into space." But at least, Eli made a great show of adjusting his switches and levers. Whether he planned to effect a landing or was trying to avoid the approaching body, was a secret locked in his own dome-like head. In time this new menace became common-place and life lapsed into its dull routine, with Marlin alone spending a great deal of time observing their progress toward the stellar body. On one occasion, Pearl paid him one of her infrequent visits. He looked up as the girl climbed from the ladder. "Better run along," he said abruptly. "It's considered bad medicine for you to chin with me." * * * * * She stopped beside him and cocked her head on one side, for all the world like a bird listening for a worm. "It is so lonely," she said yearningly. "You--lonely?" he repeated in surprise. "Didn't know you ever felt that way." With a suggestion of impatience, she touched the bulging crust of clay surrounding the original entrance-hole. "So lonely," she insisted. "Please let it out." Not quite sure of her meaning, he picked up a crowbar and tapped the hardened crust. This seemed to be what she desired, for she stood aside expectantly. Cracking the surface, he dislodged a section and allowed the gummy interior substance to flow out. The girl smiled her pleasure, then cupped both hands over the soft mass, working them below the surface almost lovingly. "So lonely," she murmured, in a crooning voice. When she withdrew her hands, smeared with the gummy exudation, she held a small lump of some kind in her palms. As she rubbed the clay away, Marlin saw with a start that it was a dead field mouse. This was one of the numerous creatures that had been enmeshed in the sticky clay, he realized. But how had the girl known it was there--close to the surface at this point? "Better throw it into the incinerator," he advised gently. "Nasty thing. Dead." Shrinking from his outstretched hand, she cuddled the mire-covered little body to her breast and almost furtively escaped down the ladder.