“Well, I don’t like it,” Wally admitted after a moment. “Too darned much sky! You get a roll up here that you don’t feel in the ship, too. And it’s cold. Why isn’t this railing higher? It isn’t safe; just comes to my waist. So if you’ll just step off that trap, Ellison, we’ll go down.” “Not yet, Cram.” David spoke quite gently. “I don’t want you to miss any of this. We are riding high—higher every minute. I ordered the ship sent up a mile or so, and we are climbing fast. “Imagine,” he went on, “how easy it would be for a good husky chap, like me, for instance, to heave another chap over. He’d go bouncing down the side of the ship, clutching, but finding nothing to grab. Then—well, that would be about all. I wonder how long you would have to think, to remember, before you lost consciousness.” “Lord, what a morbid mind! You want to watch out for yourself,” said Wally with a forced laugh. The sunset shone full on his face. He was chalk white. A sickly fear was spreading through him. “Come on, Ellison, let’s go down. Thanks for the view. I’ve had enough of it. Come on.” “No hurry,” said David. He stood against the sunset. That or the fact that there was nothing to measure him by, no familiar scale of size, made his big muscular figure look gigantic to Wally’s horrified gaze. For Wally was suddenly tasting a terror past his comprehension. The man was mad. Ellison was mad—mad—mad—mad. The words filled his brain like the beat of a drum. “Come on, Davie, old chap, let’s go down,” he coaxed. “No!” thundered David. He took a single step toward Wally across the little platform. With one hand he caught him by the lapels of his coat, and shook him gently. Wally screamed. “Stop that!” said David. He took up Wally’s right hand and looked at it. He nodded at the purple stain he saw there. “Where is it?” he asked. “Where’s what?” chattered Wally. “You know. The envelope—my plans.” “How do I know?” cried Wally shrilly. “You think I took them? Well, I didn’t. What would I want with your plans? Let go of me!” He pushed at David’s hand. It was a grip of steel. “Let go, I tell you! I want to go down!” “No,” said David. “Where is the envelope, Cram? You know.” “I don’t know anything about it, you fool!” cried Cram. “I’ll fix you for this! Open that trap!” “Where is the envelope with my papers? If I have to ask you that again, I’ll fight you, Cram, right up here—” “You mean you’ll murder me!” Cram suddenly screamed. “Help! help!” His voice, thin and shattered, was torn to tatters by the wind and drifted into space. He suddenly slumped at David’s feet, writhing. Strangely, David’s anger turned to pity. He pulled the cringing object upright. “Come, Cram,” he said. “I’ll tell, I’ll tell!” Cram screamed. “Let me down! The envelope is stuck under the bottom of the love birds’ cage,” he was panting. “In Trigg’s room. I took it! Go look! It’s there!” “Is this the truth?” demanded David. “I swear it,” groaned Cram. “God’s own truth!”