Suddenly the driving wind ripped Jim’s nose-piece away and left it dangling from his helmet. He automatically gulped in a mouthful of searing, oxygenless air. It tore at his lungs and gagged him suffocatingly. He held his breath, grateful for the underwater swimming he had done at the Oceanside Boys’ Home. Jim stretched downward and reached the nozzle of the jet tube. He shoved his hand into it. The heat of the tube caused him to cry out in agony. Just as he was about to give up, his burned fingers felt something soft. Feathers. His hands plunged forward still deeper into the tube and closed around the mangled fowl. He tugged with all his might and finally withdrew the broken mass. His arm was beet red and paining fiercely. He began the tortured climb back up into the car. His lungs were bursting for air. Every touch of his seared hand caused him to groan in pain. Just as he climbed free of the tube, a burst of red flame poured from the nozzle. With a shuddering jerk the car began slackening speed. Jim knew Babe had thrown on the jet’s full power as soon as Jim had cleared the tube. When Jim reached the window, Babe leaned out and pulled him into the car. Jim sagged in the extra seat, staring dumbly at the nearing spaceport plateau. “Will we make it?” he gasped, feeling the sharp braking force of the forward rocket. “We’ll make it all right—thanks to you,” Jim heard Babe say. Then everything whirled before his eyes and he blacked out from lack of air and the strain of his grueling experience. When Jim recovered consciousness, he was in the colony clinic. The arm he had thrust into the jet tube was bandaged stiffly, and there was cooling salve on his wind-burned face. Babe was standing by the bedside. “You’ll be all right,” he said. “The doc said you’d be uncomfortable for a while, but your arm burn isn’t too serious.” Jim saw the tall erect figure of Captain Coppard come over. “So you’re the stowaway who so cleverly avoided me during the voyage?” he said. Jim swallowed, his throat raw. “Yes, sir.” The officer’s gaze still held that characteristic penetrating stare. “Steward Hogan told me how you came to be aboard,” he said. “I was ready to toss both of you into the brig when I first found out about you. Then since I talked to you in the cable car, I’ve been reviewing your record while aboard the _Hercules_. The other stewards tell me you did an extra fine job as a beginner without training. And of course there were these last things you did—risking your life to save one of the tourists from the unicorn and then preventing what could have been a terrible accident on the cable car. In a measure it changes things.” “Yes, sir,” Jim murmured hopefully. “Not that I condone breaking regulations!” the officer continued gruffly. “Of course not, sir,” Jim said. “You and Hogan had better thank your rockets that I’m in an expansive mood today,” the officer concluded. “Charges dismissed.” He then left the room. Babe and Jim were alone.