When later ships salvaged the wreck of the _Sagittarius_, scraps of the radio operator’s note were found, but not enough of it to establish the “fix” of the still missing _Northern Cross_. These scraps had later been turned over to Rock and held by him ever since. He had stubbornly clung to the fragments in the wild hope that some day he might obtain some other clue to the location of his father’s ship. The last message from the radio operator of the _Northern Cross_ had reported that the ship had lost its power of navigation after falling into a perpetual orbit about Venus. Therefore Rock and his mother had known for years that Victor Merrill’s ghost ship had become a satellite of the planet Venus. “Here it is, Shep!” Rock exclaimed, pulling a flat tin box out of his dresser drawer. They eagerly took the box and the photostat over to a table. Rock unlocked the container and gently removed the scorched and yellowed fragment that had been pieced together with transparent tape. He fitted the section against the ragged edges of the full-size pattern. “It fits!” Rock said. Swiftly the coming events passed hopefully before his mind’s eye. He visualized a search for the _Northern Cross_, a search that might yet bring a fulfillment of Dr. Merrill’s unselfish dream. “I wonder what Mr. Kalmus wants out of this?” Rock mused. “A share of the treasure, I’d guess,” Shep replied. “Of course we can’t be absolutely sure of finding the _Northern Cross_, even with the exact ‘fix,’” Rock said. “If it changed its flight path after sending the SOS, there’s not much hope. But if it held its same orbit, as Dad’s radio operator reported, we should be able to locate it.” “What do you say we listen to Kalmus’ proposition?” Shep suggested. “The sooner the better!” Rock agreed. As they went down the corridor, they met Johnny Colfax. “One of these days I’m going to tell those guys what they can do with their old job, especially that little worm, Mugger!” Johnny complained. “I’m tired of all this backbreaking stuff and his fussing at us all the time!” “I think we’re all tired of it, Johnny,” Rock sympathized. Johnny was one of seven of them who had accepted work on the servicing station after their washout from school. Since they knew they could never go into space in the smart livery of the Space Command, this seemed to be the next best thing. But the boys had soon tired of the glamour of being out in the deeps and the hard work, and most of them were ready to go meekly back home to Earth. “Maybe before long,” Rock told his discouraged friend, “all of us will be able to tell the big boys where to head in.” “What do you mean?” Johnny asked. “Come along and see,” Shep invited. Johnny made a wry face. “I’m not in the mood to see anything now. It’s the sack for me and ten solid hours of sleep!”