Jim soothed him with a smile. “Yeah, we dug out your monster and we’ve got him aboard. If you’re through being a sleepyhead, I’ll take you to see him.” [Illustration: _Cold, bulging eyes peered into his own._] “How long have I been under?” “Twelve hours.” “Wow!” “Feel rested?” “Good as new,” Rob answered. They went down the corridor to one of the cold-storage compartments. Several of the crew were inside, as well as the skipper. But Rob wasn’t noticing the men. He was looking at a dark alien form lying on the floor. Rob went over closer and knelt down. The creature was fishlike, and the strangest thing about it was the glistening dark skin, similar to metal. Rob touched it and it was like stroking cold steel. “No wonder it can live in such frigid temperatures,” Rob murmured, “with a metallic covering like that! Won’t the scientists back home have a picnic dissecting him?” He stood up and found his gaze level with Mr. Brigger’s. “I never believed in your fantastic theory,” the chief officer said, “and I still doubt it after I’ve seen it. But I admired your spirit from the first, Allison. I believe you would have been as good a loser as a winner and I’m proud to have flighted with you.” He smiled and offered his hand to Rob, who shook it. Then the others came forward, and they too offered congratulations. But Rob’s thoughts weren’t for his own success this day. They were reaching ahead to when Grant Allison would be even more of a fabulous figure in the field of space science, and Dr. Franz would at last have claimed his well-deserved victory. EXPEDITION PLUTO “The lieutenant doesn’t think you’ve got your mind on navigation, Rob,” Duff Ford was saying, as he and Rob Allison stood before a port of the rocket ship _Rigel_ looking out over the sea of space. “Does it show that much?” the lean young spaceman answered. “We’ll find him, Rob,” the redhead answered. “Stop eating your heart out.” “You never knew Jim Hawley, did you, Duff?” Rob asked. “No, but from what I’ve heard of him, he’s quite a guy. Always smiling and bursting with friendliness.” “That’s Jim,” Rob said, a tightness in his throat. “I sure would like to know what happened to him and the others on Pluto.” “How come you didn’t get to go along on the first Pluto expedition?” Duff asked. “I thought you and Jim Hawley always went together.” “I’ve been working with my brother in the States,” Rob replied. “As the new president of Interplanet Exploration, he’s been awfully busy.” “There’s a real guy,” Duff said with admiration, “your brother Grant. I guess he’s the greatest spaceman who’s been born. And judging by your own record around the solar system, Rob, you’re not far behind him.” “Thanks for the flattery,” Rob said, grinning.