The skipper still looked like a man who'd grabbed a live wire by accident. He shook his head sadly. "I wouldn't of thunk it of you, Lancelot, son," he grieved. "You was always so quick at graspin' things before this. I was bankin' on you to make it two captains in the same family. But--well, let bygones be bygones. Next year you'll have another test. An' in the meantime, I'll try to teach you more about how to act in emergencies." Biggs said gratefully, "Thank you, sir. And--and Diane?" "We won't tell her," said the Old Man promptly. "I alluz say that what women don't know won't hurt 'em. We'll keep this to ourselves. But, mind you!" A flash of the old fire lighted his weathered, space-faded eyes. "But, mind--I want you to study hard durin' this next year! If you want to win your stripes, you got to listen to a wiser head!" "Yes, sir," said Lancelot Biggs. "I will, sir." Then the skipper left. A great old guy. No longer listless and lackadaisical, space-weary, but a new man, imbued with a strong, fighting new urge. To help a young man earn his spurs. There was something admirable in his attitude, and something a little pathetic, too. And after he had left, I turned to Biggs. I said, "Okay, pal--come clean!" He started. "I--I beg your pardon, Sparks?" "Come," I repeated, "clean. You can fool some of the people some of the time, and you can fool some of the people some of the time--but you can't fool some of the people some of the time. And I'm them. Biggs, I know you like I know my own hangnails. I've seen you in a thousand tight spots, and I never once knew you to go into a dither. But you messed this one up so bad that it smelled from here to Pluto. Now I want to know--why?" Biggs' eyes looked like saucers. His larynx jumped up and down painfully. "I don't know what you mean, Bert." "Talk," I said grimly, "or I start rumors. Why?" And then--Lancelot Biggs grinned! "So I made it look bad, eh, Bert?" "Bad? Awful! That heat--great comets, pal, you nearly killed us all! But why? I heard part of that transmission from Luna. I heard enough to know that if you passed your final test you were going to be given a command immediately. A ship of your own. The _Tethys_ or the _Antigone_ or the _Orestes_. All good ships--" Biggs said quietly, "There was another one, Bert." "What? No, there wasn't. I looked it up. There were only those three waiting captainless in port." "But there would have been four," he said, "if I'd passed my exam. Sparks--Cap Hanson's a great guy, isn't he?" "Sure. A grand old-timer. But--" And then, suddenly, I got it! Got it, and realized what an all-around humdinging hell of a real man Lancelot Biggs really is! I said: "You mean--you mean that if you had earned your stripes, the Old Man was going to be set down? And you'd be placed in command of the _Saturn_? Is that it? Why, you--" And I swallowed hard, and I gave him a shove. And I said, "Aw, Lanse--"