"I think," suggested Nora, "the first thing you'd better do, Flick, is introduce your friend. This must all seem rather mysterious and awkward to him." "Oh, my golly!" gulped Flick. "I almost forgot. I'm sorry, Hugh. Doc, you remember Hugh Warren, don't you?" "Warren?" Dr. Bryant's gaze turned querulously toward the tall, fair, smiling young man in the doorway. The newcomer was dressed in the respected gold-trimmed blue of the Solar Space Patrol. His even features were tanned to a cinnamon hue by long exposure to the raw, unshielded radiations of the void. The old scientist's eyes lighted with belated recognition. "Not young Hugh Warren who used to study Celestial Astrogation at the Observatory?" The spaceman grinned, stepping forward to wring the older man's hand with phalange-crushing enthusiasm. "The same, Dr. Bryant," he chuckled. "I've never forgotten those courses in Silly Ass. Most fun I've ever had ... and I've had plenty since that. Lord--" He made the rounds, ending beside Gary Lane, about whose shoulders he threw an arm in warm, masculine affection--"Lord, it's good to see you earth-lubbers again! You haven't changed a bit, Gary. You look a little more sober and settled down. But, then, they tell me marriage does that to a guy...." "Marriage?" echoed Lane blankly. "Why--why, yes. Isn't this young lady--?" "No. This is Miss Powell, my assistant. And the gentleman beside Dr. Bryant is Dr. Boris Anjers. Dr. Anjers, Lieutenant Warren." Dr. Anjers said politely, "It is always a pleasure to meet friends of my friends. But hasn't Dr. Lane made a small mistake? If my poor eyesight does not deceive me, your markings are not those of a space lieutenant--" Warren grinned. "That's right. S'prise, folks! The Council up and made me a Captain, on account of me and my boys were lucky enough to salvage a smashed liner out of the Bog.[4] That's why I'm here in Geneva. Waiting to take command of my new ship, the sweetest, smoothest, little whipper-dipper of a cruiser you ever laid eyes on. Boy, is it ever a honey! All the latest equipment--" [Footnote 4: The Bog: spaceman's term used to designate the Asteroid Belt between Mars and Jupiter.--_Ed._] "Cruiser!" said Lane bitterly. "They've got lots of cruisers for routine work, but they won't even spare one old broken down jalopy for--" Hugh Warren looked puzzled. "For what? What's the gripe, chum? You look like you'd just found a bug in a raspberry." "It's worse than that," said Gary. And he told Warren the whole story briefly, beginning with the lunar expedition and ending with the recital of his recent interview. * * * * * As Lane spoke, the young spaceman's smile faded slowly, the laughter-born crinkles in the corners of his eyes disappeared. And Nora Powell, watching this transition, realized that beneath the surface vivacity of this newcomer there lay a core of steel, flame-hardened in the crucible of action.