"I didn' mean to keel you, Haney!" the dark one panted. The lanky one snapped: "Okay. You didn't. But come on, now! We finish this----" He advanced toward the workman who had so nearly caused his death. But the other man dropped his arms to his sides. "I don' fight no more," he said thickly. "Not here. You keel me is okay. I don' fight." The lanky man--Haney--growled at him. "Tonight, then, in Bootstrap. Now get back to work!" The stocky man picked up his tools. He was trembling. Haney turned to Joe and said ungraciously: "Much obliged. What's up?" Joe still felt queasy. There is rarely any high elation after one has risked his life for somebody else. He'd nearly plunged two hundred feet to the floor of the Shed with Haney. But he swallowed. "I'm looking for Chief Bender. You're Haney? Foreman?" "Gang boss," said Haney. He looked at Joe and then at Sally who was holding convulsively to the upright Joe had put her hand on. Her eyes were closed. "Yeah," said Haney. "The Chief took off today. Some kind of Injun stuff. Funeral, maybe. Want me to tell him something? I'll see him when I go off shift." There was an obscure movement somewhere on this part of the Platform. A tiny figure came out of a crevice that would someday be an air lock. Joe didn't move his eyes toward it. He said awkwardly: "Just tell him Joe Kenmore's in town and needs him. He'll remember me, I think. I'll hunt him up tonight." "Okay," said Haney. Joe's eyes went to the tiny figure that had come out from behind the plating. It was a midget in baggy, stained work garments like the rest of the men up here. He wore a miniature welding shield pushed back on his head. Joe could guess his function, of course. There'd be corners a normal-sized man couldn't get into, to buck a rivet or weld a joint. There'd be places only a tiny man could properly inspect. The midget regarded Joe without expression. Joe turned to the hoist to go down to the floor again. Haney waved his hand. The midget lifted his, in grave salutation. The hoist dropped down the shaft. Sally opened her eyes. "You--saved that man's life, Joe," she said unsteadily. "But you scared me to death!" Joe tried to ignore the remark, but he still seemed to feel slanting metal under him and a drop of two hundred feet below. It had been a nightmarish sensation. "I didn't think," he said uncomfortably. "It was a crazy thing to do. Lucky it worked out." Sally glanced at him. The hoist still dropped swiftly. Levels of scaffolding shot upward past them. If Joe had slipped down that rolling curve of metal, he'd have dropped past all these. It was not good to think about. He swallowed again. Then the hoist checked in its descent. It stopped. Joe somewhat absurdly helped Sally off to solid ground. "It--looks to me," said Sally, "as if you're bound to make me see somebody killed. Joe, would you mind leading a little bit less adventurous life for a while? While I'm around?"