Around the two men, the precious cargo had been vandalled. The empty tins were strewn all over the hold. Of all the powdered platinum, perhaps a dozen or two cans remained intact. The rest of it--and no other conclusion was possible--now adorned the steel hull of the _Lucifer_! "Bring Tug Skelly to my quarters, Mr. Jackson," Captain Douglas said in a mechanical voice. "Under guard if necessary." * * * * * But Tug came to the Captain's cabin without protest, even though he came not too happily. There shone, however, under bo'sun's Caliban countenance, the kind of inner serenity that can only come from doing the right thing regardless of consequences. Captain Douglas eyed the culprit wrathfully. "Bo'sun Skelly," Douglas shot out when Tug stood before his desk, "all I want you to do is answer one question: Was it you who painted the _Lucifer's_ hull during the last watch?" Tug shifted his big feet uncomfortably; but his serene expression did not vanish. "Yes sir," Tug confessed. "I did it for the good of all of us. It jes' had to be done, Cap'n Douglas. Because now those witches--" "Mr. Skelly!" Douglas cut in shakily, "are you aware that you used eight-hundred-thousand dollars worth of platinum to paint the ship! What are you trying to do, man--" the young skipper's voice rose to a croaked scream--"buy those damned witches off?" Tug shuddered visibly at the profane reference to the dreaded Giants of the Pass. "I wouldn't talk that way about them, Cap'n," he shivered, "no, sir. You see, the formula for purification includes platinum--that's according to old Joshua MacLevy. But I couldn't find any white paint at all. So I jes' had to use--well, what came to hand." "Which happened to be our cargo of platinum," Captain Douglas murmured incredulously. He sank into his swivel like a man in a dream. It was still possible, of course, to salvage much of the precious metal from the hull. But doing the job now, while en route, would mean a suicidal delay; while bringing the _Lucifer_ in, festooned as she was, would very likely mean his ticket. Misery seemed to threaten both courses equally; but the young skipper felt he had no choice. Somehow--white or black--the _Lucifer_ had to be brought in on schedule. "Mr. Jackson," Captain Douglas said with forgivable bitterness, "you will have bo'sun Skelly confined to irons for the remainder of the run. We may all lose our jobs for this, but with him in the holds, we'll at least have a chance to complete the voyage alive!" * * * * * The _Lucifer_, now a white spear cleaving the darkness, reacted to the proximity of the Cross Straits like a cat to danger. All flight regulations were strictly enforced, by the Captain's special command. Every instrument and delicate warning device was tested out and brought up to specifications. The ship took on the grim aspect of a citadel prepared to withstand any eventuality.