Largely ferrous, the stones were caught in the grip of the asteroid's magnetic core. It required the combined efforts of both men to lift them through the opening into their prison. At the end of half an hour they were drenched with sweat, and the hole beneath was only four feet deep. "No ... no use!" Old Barger panted. "We can go on like this indefinitely. And if we try to tunnel sidewise it'll fall on us." "But we ought to reach the big meteorites soon," Haller muttered. "They'd have settled lower and will have open spaces between them. And the sub-men have this place honeycombed with passages. If we hit one...." "About as much chance as a snowball on Mercury," the quartermaster wheezed. "Hold the water jar near. I'm going to have a look." Haller held the jar close to the opening so that its green glow faintly illuminated the pit they had dug. Barger, his face red from exertion, jumped into the excavation. "Stones and more stones," he grunted. "Might dig the rest of our lives before we struck anything. I...." A rumble of rock, a smothered cry, and the grizzled quartermaster disappeared from view! "Barger!" Steve shouted. "What happened? Are you hurt?" "Bruised up a bit." The answer echoed hollowly. "And I can't see where I am!" "Okay, sit tight." Haller knotted his belt to his leather jacket, lowered the half-empty jug of phosphorescent water into the opening. When Barger announced its safe arrival, he made one end of the improvised rope fast, climbed down it. In the faint green glow a hollow, between two immense meteorites, was visible. Barger, dirty, disheveled, glanced about. "The opening seems to run back aways," he announced. "Want to try it?" "Right." Haller led the way, testing each step carefully. As they moved on, the tunnel narrowed, and they were forced to crawl. Haller, creeping under the overhang of a huge stone, felt like an ant moving through the spaces in a mound of cannon-balls. Now they were forced to dig again, dragging aside the magnetized rocks, holding their breaths for fear of a cave-in. They had made their way perhaps a hundred feet when Haller pulled up short. His hands had encountered something smooth, cold! "Metal!" he exclaimed. "Wait!" Quickly he raised the vessel of luminous water. Before them, buried beneath massive rocks, was a rusty, ancient spaceship! "Lord!" Barger stared at the archaic forward rocket tubes. "The great grand-daddy of all spaceships!" He pointed to a gaping crack in the battered hull. "Let's see what's inside!" Squeezing through the crack, they found themselves in a dusty, old-fashioned cabin. Two skeletons lay sprawled upon the floor, moldering clothes hanging on their bones. Haller picked up a yellowed book, studied the all but illegible writing. "... caught on the barren sargasso-like world. Magnetism holding us here. Radio blanketed, last food eaten three days ago. No hope. Jameson died today. Too weak to write more. Donovan closing this log. July 17, 1994."