First I thought Norman Haynes would swing at me. But he didn't. He lacked that kind of nerve. He began to sputter and curse under his breath, and I thought of a snake hissing. I felt the danger of it, though--danger that broods and plans, and doesn't come out into the open, but waits its chance to strike. Knowing that it was there, sizzling in Haynes' mind, gave me a thrill. Casually I tossed one of the packs of cigarettes to Nick Mavrocordatus, who had come with me into the pay office. He gave me a nudge, which meant we'd better scram. When we were out of the building, he held me off from going to any of the few tawdry saloons there under the small, glassed-in airdome of Enterprize City, the one shabby scrap of civilization and excuse for comfort. "No drinks now, Chet," Nick whispered. "Can't chance it. Got to keep on our toes. In one way I'm glad you talked down to that--whatever you want to call him. But you've made us the worst possible enemy we could have--now." I shrugged. "What were you gonna tell me before, Nick?" I demanded. "I gathered you had something plenty big in view." He answered me so abruptly that I didn't quite believe my ears at first. "Pa and Sis and Geedeh and I, have made good, Chet," he said. "We found--not just pickings--but a real fortune in ore, on planetoid 439. So rich is the deposit that we could buy our own smelting and purifying machinery, and hire ships under our own control, to take the refined metals back to Earth!" "You're kidding, Nick," I said amazedly. "Not a bit of it," he returned. * * * * * Then I was pumping his hand, congratulating him. Really good luck was a phenomenon among the asteroids. That friends of mine, among the thousands of hopeful ones that I didn't know, should grab the jack-pot, seemed almost impossible. "I suppose you'll all be leaving us soon," I told him. "Going back to Earth, living the lives of millionaires. I'm glad for you all, kid. Your Pa can raise his flowers and grapes, instead of starting up in the truck-garden business again. Your sis, Irene, can study her painting and her music, like she wants to." Anybody can see the way my thoughts were going just then. When you start out green for the Minor Planets, that's part of what's in your mind, first--get rich, come back to Earth. Nick sighed heavily as we walked along. That funny smile was on his lips again. He glanced around, and the emerald light of the illuminators was on his young face. Then he said, "I don't think it's quite safe to talk here, Chet. Better come to our old space jaloppy, the _Corfu_." The _Corfu_ was on the ways outside the dome. We put on space suits to reach it. Inside, the old crate smelled of cooking odors, some of them maybe accumulated over the eighteen months the Mavrocordatuses had been asteroid mining. Old ships are hard to ventilate, with their imperfect air-purifiers.