Orace was about to leave—was, in fact, already climbing—when he had an inspiration, and returned. The stunned mechanic was of Orace’s own build. Orace commandeered the man’s cap and blue jeans, and, finding a convenient locker, pushed the engineer into it and turned the key. Thus equipped, Orace felt that he had a decided advantage—he would be able to move more freely about the ship, and, if he encountered any Tiger Cubs, he would be safe from challenge in the darkness until he had got close enough to make his distaste for their society effectively evident. Once more he began to make his way to the deck. He was half-way there when he heard the tramp of heavy feet coming towards him. Orace turned and scuttled back. He kept his head averted and bent low over the nearest motor. The feet grated on the companion above him, and halted. “All right down there, Joseph?” “Aye, aye, sir,” replied Orace in a muffled voice, without looking up. “We’ll be off in less than an hour. You needn’t bother about running on the electric motors going out—we want to get off as quickly as we can.” “Aye, aye, sir.” “I’ll ring down as soon as the last load’s being taken in, and you can start up then and keep running till we go.” The footsteps retired along the deck overhead, and Orace breathed again. He had noticed the iron door behind him, but had assumed that it led only to the fuel tanks. As a matter of fact, it did, but there was also a narrow alley running between the tanks and continuing forrard till it reached the foot of an emergency companion. He heard the slight click of the door opening, and quickly bowed his head over the engines again. This man did not speak; but Orace, apparently intent on inspecting a sparking-plug, could hear the stealthy slither of feet over the greasy metal, and the hairs in the scruff of his neck prickled. There was something sinister about that wary approach—the man behind him moved so silently that Orace would never have noticed the sound if he had not been expecting it. The door itself had been unlatched so cautiously that that noise also would probably have escaped him if he had not been listening for the retreat of the man who had spoken to him. The stealthy feet drew nearer, step by step, while Orace kept his back turned and went on poring over the plug terminals. They were nearer now—only a couple of yards behind him, as far as he could judge. Another yard, and Orace gathered himself for a sudden movement. He had ceased to wonder whether the intruder regarded him as an innocent party. For some reason which he could not immediately divine Orace was suspect.