It was another hour before he had maneuvered so he could let her drift toward the open space-lock of the SP47 and she could feel her gloved hands touch something solid. Then she was standing up. Larry was taking her helmet off and she was unzipping her suit. He was trying to look stern and reprimanding and she was trying to look defiant and unafraid. "Don't think this earns you anything," she snapped. "I hope the _Hell Bat_ represented your last cent," he said coldly. "Being broke might teach you something. Now we do things _my_ way." Stella blinked. "Sure, Larry," she said huskily. "And--it was my last cent." A grim smile trembled on her lips. "Maybe I'll be slinging hash somewhere, and you will eat there and tip me a quarter." His expression softened. "I took a look at your ship. It isn't completely damaged. You had one of those crash noses on it, and the mine hit there. It just might be navigable. I'll go take a look at it." "Be careful," Stella said quickly. He started to put on his space-suit. He looked up at her sharply. "You sure it represents your last cent? Every minute counts, and I wouldn't take the time to look it over...." "Why do you think I wanted to save my freighter?" Stella said. "Unless I did, and got the money out of those robot bodies I bought, I--I wouldn't have enough to refuel my ship once we got back to Earth. I'm broke. Busted." "Okay," he said, clamping on his helmet. "If it can be repaired we'll keep track of it and pick it up later." He sat down in the pilot seat and brought his ship near the drifting _Hell Bat_, with its sleek silver length and shattered nose. Then she watched him shoot across to the _Hell Bat_ and enter the airlock. With one eye on the viewscreen, she studied the array of instruments and controls of the SP47. Her fingers touched the controls caressingly. Larry reappeared in the airlock, and waved his arm to attract her attention. "Good news," he said over the radio. "Everything inside is okay. You lost the fuel stored in the nose tanks, but you've got enough to limp back to the nearest repair station." "Thanks, Larry--and goodbye!" Stella called. Her finger pressed down on the control button. Larry and her ship slid abruptly out of the viewscreen. Worriedly she turned on the stern cameras. The other ship dwindled to a mere speck. Then she saw flame shoot from it. It crept up on her slowly. She watched its behavior until she was satisfied it performed properly. Then she settled down to tracking the freighter, only occasionally making sure Larry was behind. Several times she tried to get him over the radio. He didn't answer. Was the radio on her ship damaged? Or was he deliberately keeping silent, ignoring her? When the _trackers_, without warning, ran out of trail, she tried to raise Larry again. He didn't answer. She took the chance that he could receive and not transmit, and told him about it.