"Tell Mike to make it a good space line. I'll be around to see it," were Johnny's last words when they found him. Two days later the Patrol had smoked Snyder out of a cheap rooming house--trapped, still with the damned cynical smile. There was movement at the field exit and four figures detached themselves from the darkness. Edward Snyder towered above the others, carrying his opal-eyed pet in his fettered hands; a sad-faced monkey-sized creature that imitated gestures and obeyed mental commands. Logan glanced swiftly at his watch--ten minutes! and moved to intercept the body. "I'll take over," he said crisply. Snyder's eyes widened, tiny chip blue flakes lost in flabby flesh. "Is this the pilot?" he demanded. "He'll kill me." But he kept his queer smile. The guards were Jovians, local police, short, rotund, lobster-faced individuals. One of them stepped forward. "Lieutenant Logan?" Mike Logan nodded and showed his papers. The Jovian satisfied himself and returned them. His eyes waved on the end of stalks--supple, transparent muscles; never still. "We are in charge until the moment of take-off, Lieutenant," he said stiffly. "If you will step aside we will chain the prisoner within the ship." He spoke with characteristic hollowness, a racial organic flaw. "I think I can handle that," Mike said testily. Snyder laughed and he looked up a foot at the mocking face. "They know you're going to kill me. You can wait till space, can't you, Logan?" He had found out his name. Hate welled up in Logan's eyes and curdled his soul. But he had to stand with raw nerves and take it. The entourage, pushing past him, entered the Patrol ship. Blood ran down his fingers where the nails had bitten into the palms. The Jovian guards chained Snyder to the bunk behind the control bucket. When they re-appeared their spokesman approached Logan. "The prisoner is secure," he reported. "Then your duty is done." "Not until you leave," the guard corrected. He hesitated. "We have heard what occasioned at the prison. I knew your brother and mourn his passing. His killer has a strange mind, but he is to die--." "He'll die," Logan promised dangerously. "But you will cheat us. He has killed my people too. Have we no share in vengeance? Let him be hanged. Think--" "Save it for your children," Logan broke in savagely. He turned angrily and climbed into the Patrol ship, his mind blazing with a dozen tangent thoughts. The port clapped shut like the jaws of death behind him. He sank into the control bucket, not looking at his prisoner, only the panel chronometer. The hands met straight up. He touched off the gravity-clearing charge and the breath was sucked from his lungs. * * * * * The stars were pinpoints of light poking holes in the consciousness. He looked at them and wondered if Johnny were watching him. He didn't believe in ghosts, but--