Dave Marlin stood on the ledge in the chill air of early morning, looking into the sodden depths below. The rain had ceased, but the rays of the newly risen sun as yet had scarcely found their way into the crater. He turned, shivering, as DuChane sauntered toward him. "What's that thing down below?" "What does it look like?" "Like a huge ball of clay. But the scaffolding and building equipment--these bunkhouses--indicate human handiwork. The old duffer said something about a space ship. This couldn't be--" "There's little enough I can tell you," responded DuChane. "I've been here less than a week. Slinky and I lost our bearings in a storm. It's a good hideout--and we're seemingly expected to stick around. The dipsomaniac and her queer companion have been here longer. She used to cook for the construction crew. "Whatever that thing is--" he indicated the huge mud-colored ball in the pit below--"was practically in that condition when we arrived. The self-styled scientist, Thornboldt, seems to have started out with the idea of pioneering in space travel. My information comes chiefly from an article in a scientific magazine that I ran across in his shack, denouncing him as a charlatan. Near as I can gather, he evolved certain theories about nullifying gravity by atomic polarization--if that means anything to you. Claimed to do it by creating violent stresses within a magnetic field. The attacking author--some scientific duck by the name of Lamberton--acknowledged that there was a mathematical basis for Eli's conception, but pointed out that inconceivable power would be required to demonstrate the theory. Do I bore you?" Marlin started. "Far from it." Then: "You're an educated man," he commented irrelevantly. Bart DuChane threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing from the opposite cliffs. "Same to you," he retorted. "I recognized the Harvard accent. Like old Eli, it is a shame that we should be associating with scum--except that--as he so charmingly puts it--we are scum ourselves." He paused, then, lowering his voice: "Slinky didn't exaggerate. I have engaged in many shady pursuits, not the least of which is bilking the credulous by the ancient and phony art of crystal gazing. The manslaughter rap was the result of a tavern brawl. I have a weakness for low company."