"Go on," Blake said kindly. "When I got your message it wasn't easy to drop everything and come. I expected something like this." O'Toole stared at him, hating to say what he knew he had to. "Wade is planning to marry Dauna Ferrell." "Dauna?" Blake was plainly puzzled. "Why, Dauna was a tow-headed brat when I left Earth. But if Wade wants her, why not?" O'Toole shook his head a little impatiently. "It isn't that he wants her," he said. "I can't explain everything now. Let's just say that Wade is giving up every chance he'll ever have of owning the 'Hope to Horn' line. He's stirring up trouble between Dauna and her father and making a dangerous ass of himself in the bargain." * * * * * Blake flicked the long ash from his cigarette. "He must be a busy man," he admitted. "But where do I fit into this puzzle?" Holly O'Toole was plainly bewildered. "I wish I knew," he admitted. "I can't handle every angle alone, and if some changes don't come in a hurry, Wade, Dauna and Walter Ferrell will lose everything they have, including their sanity. You're the only man who can pound any brains into Wade's head. I figured you might be willing to try it, before it's too late." He stood up rather stiffly, drew his belt up over his rounded paunch. Blake watched him with narrowed, speculative eyes. O'Toole looked at his watch. "Where is Wade now?" Blake asked. "At South Station since last night," O'Toole said. "Does he know I'm on Earth?" O'Toole looked doubtful. "I'm afraid he does," he admitted. "I sent your radio-wave last week and he was in the office at the time. I can't explain why, but I have the feeling he checked up after I left and found out who I had radioed." Blake followed O'Toole to the door, drew on his heavy coat. "Let's get it over with," he shrugged his shoulders. "I've had to take Wade in hand a couple of times. Once more won't do any harm. We'll go to South Station." O'Toole hesitated. He had something else to get off his chest. "Jeff," he spoke gravely. "It's only fair to tell you that being Wade's twin may get you into some pretty heavy trouble." Jeff grinned queerly. "Good!" he said. "I sort of like the stuff." The door slammed behind them and the light from the single window faded against the dark field. * * * * * A swift shadow of a man darted from between the empty space docks. The stranger's arm went high and jerked straight. A wicked knife flicked from the steeled fingers. It missed Blake's neck by inches; struck the heavy door behind him. Blake took two swift steps forward, realized the man was already lost in the night. He stopped and pivoted. O'Toole had already jerked the knife from the door, was staring at it with tight lips. "Playful bunch of goons you've got around here," Blake said mirthlessly.