"Well," Marnay wailed, "how was I to know that one of the big-shots implicated was my boss's brother-in-law? So to shut me up I was given this assignment. Sent out here to get a line on Prather, _or else_. It's a cute side-track, often used; what we newsmen call the graveyard assignment." Kennett was interested. "Uh-huh," he nodded. "And just how much of a line have you got on Prather so far?" "I'll give you one guess! Precisely nothing. Oh, of course I know all the stories. In the past few years the Patrol has destroyed his base of operations on Io, and again on Mercury, and twice on Ceres. But that pirate's as elusive as the last pea on the plate! Always he's one jump ahead of them, because of his spy system." Marnay shrugged hopelessly. "I suppose some of his men were in the _Halo_ tonight, but how would I know 'em? I hear they drift in and out like ghosts. And that, by the way, is why I was trying to shut you up with that story you were broadcasting." "And that," Kennett said very grimly, "is exactly what I wanted to do, broadcast it. Subtly, of course." "Yes, I gather that, now. And I think I see your idea. You deliberately want Prather to go after the _Vera_! But--what then?" Kennett stopped and looked straight at Marnay. When he replied his voice was suddenly ice: "What then? Then I'll accomplish what the entire Patrol has been trying for five years. I'll get that pirate." Marnay, looking at him, saw a sudden bitter look in his eyes, and grim lines around his mouth. He knew that the other men had said what Kennett just said--but Prather was still free in the spaceways. "Mighty big order," Marnay ventured. "I realize that! But it's taken me three years to evolve this plan, and I think it'll work." He looked steadily at Marnay. "Are you in with me?" "Try and keep me out!" "Good. But I want to make it plain it's more than a newsstory we're after. This will be all or nothing, Prather's life or ours, and if my plan misses there can't be a second chance. And remember Prather's clever, he can smell a trap a light-year away. Just now, everything depends on how good my acting was tonight." "Then I'd say you've nothing to worry about," Marnay replied, "for you sure fooled me." Kennett nodded. "We'll see. We'll know for sure tomorrow. Whether we go pirate-hunting or not...." * * * * * They obtained cheap lodging on one of the dark, rear streets bordering the spaceport. Marnay slept, but not Kennett. He paced the narrow room, nervously, smoking vile Venusian cigarettes and awaiting the dawn. The Martian dawn was breaking when there came a knock at the door. Kennett muttered, "At last!" and sprang to the door to admit someone. A Martian. Marnay, suddenly awake, saw that he was the same mean looking Martian whom Kennett had nearly had trouble with the night before! "V'Norghi, of the Martian Secret Police," Kennett said, presenting him.