Delman exhaustedly picked up his discarded crowbar. He inserted the point under a slab of rejuvenite, thrust down and pried with all his strength. As it tilted, Gillian Murray forced chocks of metal underneath to hold it in place. The teamwork was repeated time after time, until at last the slab toppled over, gaining them another twelve inches. They rested for a moment. Then the whole endless process started once again. By dusk, they had removed five stones. * * * * * Finished eating, they relaxed in the living room, lying back in the padded comfort of the armchairs. Only Jason Tarsh remained standing--slim and compact, like a young Oriental despot--his eyes fixed on Walter Pellinger. Pellinger squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "I think I'll try and get some sleep," he said. "Just a moment, Walter," Tarsh lifted a restraining hand. "You're a businessman and I want your advice. It's quite a simple problem. Imagine that four of your employees are stranded on a desert island with very little food. And suppose they all agree to build a raft on which to escape and get back to the head office--what you might call a 'joint venture.' Now let us also suppose that three of those people work hard, cut down trees and fashion them into planks, gather creepers and braid them into ropes, and generally do all they can to further the common purpose. But the fourth, Walter--and this is the point--the fourth does nothing. He eats the food--Company food, mind you!--so urgently needed to keep up the strength of the--" "Why do you keep picking on me? I do all I can." Walter Pellinger got out of his chair. "_You?_" said Jason Tarsh, affecting amazement. "Who said anything about _you_? Why, you're the last person I'd criticize. But I see you wish to leave the lovebirds to themselves, so let's finish our little chat outside. It's a fine night." He steered the unwilling Pellinger out onto the veranda. "Well, shall we take a hint and move over to the settee?" Gillian Murray suggested. Delman watched with admiration as she crossed the room, clean-limbed and graceful, her long red hair falling from the crown of her head in a soft cascade. "Never be discourteous to the cook," he replied. "That was one of my earliest lessons. And, heaven knows, you're an unusually attractive cook. It gives one an appetite just to look at you." He got up to join her--a bearded giant, tall and deep-chested, like the heroes of the Viking sagas. "What will you do when we get back?" she asked. "Marry and get some job that won't take me away from you. Does that meet with your approval?" "Yes," she said. "If that's a proposal, it will do nicely." They kissed with all the intensity of young love, losing in their embrace the dread of time which swept them toward their childhood. "Curtis," she said quietly, "have we any hope? Please be honest!" * * * * *