“Yeah. No extradition. Since 1960, when the company started. No government has a hand in the Legion. They rent its services from the company, just as the Hessian dukes used to sell their soldiers to fight for other countries. When there’s a job to be done too dirty for anyone else, they ask the Legion—and waive extradition. The Polar fortresses. The Sub-Sahara. The Canal Patrols on Mars. Dangerous space-lane patrols. It isn’t like the ancient French Legion. This one’s privately owned, and, once you get in, nothing on Earth or Mars can touch you. As long as you’re in the Legion. Men don’t live long in it, as a rule.” “Cheerful thought,” Phil grunted, puffing at his pipe. “By the way, which of us _is_ the Merlin?” Tony smiled. “I’m the guy, lads. And that’s what I’ve been building up to. I’m going to drop out of sight. Head for the Legion. And—well, I wanted you two to know about it. I can’t tell Seth, of course. But—” “I’ll be damned,” Phil said in blank amazement. “You’ve got the Earth Star?” “That’s right.” “Odd. I happen to have it myself. In a hollow tooth.” “You’re both crazy,” said Jimmy. “I’ve got it.” Tony shook his head. “It’s no use. There’s no point in the three of us going into the Legion. One’s enough. So—” Phil said, “Wait a minute. Suppose all three of us disappear? Nobody’d press a charge against three men, when obviously two were innocent. I happen to have the jewel myself—” “Yeah,” Tony grunted. “But slow down. You’re both going off the deep-end. I’m leaving now. Heading for the Legion, and you’re both staying here.” Jimmy said, “We’ll meet you there.” The argument kept on—with no result. Jimmy and Phil were adamant. Each one insisted he had the stolen gem. And, if they didn’t accompany Tony, they’d simply go after him on their own hook. “So we’d better stick together,” Phil said at last. “We’ll have a better chance that way.” Tony’s lips were compressed. “You crazy fools! You’d do it, too ... well, stay here. I’m going after an amphiplane.” “What if the investigators get here first?” Phil asked. “Stall ’em. And keep your eye on that window.” Jimmy was chewing his lip. “How do you expect to get out? If there are guards—” * * * * * Tony’s grin flashed. “You’ll find out.” He turned to the door—and was gone, apparently unruffled. But as he hurried along the passage there was a gnawing uneasiness in his mind. Guards would no doubt be watching to prevent just such an attempt at escape as this. Only blind luck could help now. He went into the big, gleaming kitchen, a bare room with murals on its walls. Every appliance had been built-in, so that stove, tables, and so forth, could be swung out from their cubbyholes by the pressure of a button. The room was empty.