The Captain bantered easily. The light of science brightened every corner of the cabin now. The darkness was a thing of the past. It was impossible even to think of witches without snickering. However, the painful grin on Tug Skelly's face was hardly a snicker; rather it was a sly and knowing grin. "No sir! Cap'n," Tug scoffed heavily. "Not me! I never was afraid o' those witches on account of myself--it was the rest of the crew I was thinkin' about all along! Yessir. Y'see, I had _this_ all the time, Cap'n." Tug drew from his huge bosom a tiny, bedraggled object that hung by a cord from his neck. With some pride, he exhibited his possession to Captain Douglas who stared puzzledly at the little, shapeless thing. But before Douglas could examine it, the bo'sun tucked it back inside his shirt and saluted with as much vigor as his par-boiled frame would allow. "Yessir!" Tug Skelly announced confidently. "I'll have that platinum back in the hold before morning mess." It wasn't until the group had followed Tug Skelly out of the cabin, leaving him alone, that Captain Douglas realized what the bo'sun had held up in his gnarled palm. The realization made the young skipper sigh heavily and sink back into his seat. The victory of science over bo'sun Tug Skelly was not destined to be an easy one. Tug was going bravely out onto the _Lucifer's_ hull armed with an old and much-used--rabbit's foot! End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cosmic Derelict, by John Broome