There was no use making a break for the next heap of rocks over this treacherous ground, even if he knew precisely where it lay. He would simply have to play tag with Stokely until-- Suddenly, the footsteps slowed and seemed to stumble. There was a clattering among the rocks and the lancing beam of the flashlight cut off. Darkness and silence descended. * * * * * Will Archer waited tensely. If all were well, Stokely should be out like the light he had been carrying. But Archer was in no hurry about using his own. It would make him altogether too vulnerable, in case this just might be a ruse. Then from a little distance came the welcome beam of Evans' light. Archer peered out carefully and beheld the prone, unmoving figure of Stokely, his arms doubled under him as if to break his fall. Unhurriedly, Archer turned on his own flashlight, walked around and set it between two rocks so that its beam made a path of light between himself and the ship. He rolled the big man over with a thrust of his foot, exposing the gun underneath. This, and one gun from the unconscious man's two holsters, Archer picked up and stuck in his belt. The remaining one--Archer's own--he pointed at Evans, who had stopped ten yards away. The latter wore a puzzled expression--apparently at having found the wrong body. "What did you do," he asked Archer, "hit him with a rock? Is he dead?" "I wish I had," said Archer without humor, "and I wouldn't feel a bit bad if he were. In fact, I intend to see to it that he is lawfully executed. But in order to do that it will be necessary to get him back to the base. You're elected to drag him over to the hoist." Archer stooped again, without taking his eyes off Evans, and laid his gun on the ground. He took the kit of jade from Stokely's belt and pocketed it, then picked up the gun again and stepped back a few paces. "You can fasten his arms with his own belt," he told Evans, "and his legs with yours. He should sleep for hours, but there's no use taking chances." Evans came forward meekly and bent over Stokely, then looked up, startled. "The hypodermics! You must have put something in ours that--" "Not yours. Do you recall how willingly he took the one with the most in it? Well, he got no more antitoxin than you and I did. The rest was a quick-acting sedative that the doctor brought aboard in case we ran into a lunatic. I emptied most of it into the distilled water, but I left enough to do the trick. I trust you're buckling that belt good and tight." Evans' blue lips twisted glumly as he pulled off his own belt and applied it to Stokely's ankles. Suddenly, he smiled. "Say! What makes you think they'll believe your story about what happened? It's your word against ours. Suppose we tell 'em that--" "You're daydreaming," Archer broke in. "You'll be a lot better off to resign yourself to spending five or ten years in a penal colony--probably on some planet worse than this one.