He seemed almost hysterical. There was no sign of the monster, but I wasn't going to take any chances out on this ribbon of rock with a hysterical man. "Let's go back," I said. "We'll try to get to the cave some other time." "All right," Donaldson said, shaken. We turned and inched our way back along the shelf to safety, and half-ran to the sanctuary of the ship. But once we were inside and I was thinking clearly again, I began to sprout some suspicions. * * * * * I reasoned it out very carefully. Every time Donaldson had gone out previously, the monster had failed to show. There wasn't another man aboard ship who hadn't had some encounter with the thing. And some of them were remarking about Donaldson's apparent luck. So this time we're out on the shelf, and the monster _does_ show up--but Donaldson's the only one who sees him, after staunchly denying its existence all along. It seemed to me that it might only have been pretense, that he had faked seeing the monster for some reason of his own. I didn't know what that could be. But I had some ideas. Donaldson, after all, had been a member of the first party to explore Pollux V, the day before the exploration that killed Max. I had remained on the ship while that group had been out. Suppose, I thought, Donaldson had found something on that first trip, something that he hadn't bothered to tell the rest of us about. Something he might want badly enough to kill all of us for. It was pretty far-fetched, but it was worth a try. I decided to explore Donaldson's cabin. Ordinarily we respected privacy to an extreme degree aboard the ship. I had never been in Donaldson's cabin before--he never invited anyone in, and naturally I never went uninvited. But this was a special case, I felt. The door was locked, but it's not hard to coerce a magneplate into opening if you know how they work. Donaldson was in the ship's lab and I hoped he'd stay out of my way till I had a good look around. The room was just like any of ours, filled with the usual things--a shelf of reference books, a file of musictapes, some minifilms, other things to help to pass away the long hours between planets. It seemed neat, precise, uncluttered, just as Donaldson himself was crisp and reserved. I moved around the room very carefully, looking for anything out of the ordinary. And then I found it. It was a black box, nothing more, about four inches square. It was sitting on one of his shelves. Just a bare black box, a little cube of metal--but _what_ metal! Beyond the blackness was a strange unearthly shimmer, an eye-teasing pattern of shifting molecules within the metal itself. The box had a sleek, alien appearance. I knew it hadn't been in the cabin when we left Earth. With a sudden rush of excitement I realized my mad guess had been right. Donaldson _had_ found something and kept news of it back from the rest of us. And perhaps it was linked to the deaths of Max Feld and Leo Mickens.