"You mean you had," Kosalowsky said cunningly, "a girl on Engraham?" "Sure I did," said Willy defensively. "Didn’t all you guys?" More and more men joined the knot of bodies around Willy’s bunk. The atmosphere became distinctly menacing. "You mean you didn’t?" Willy said. "You mean it wasn’t a gag we were pulling on Blunt?" They were silent. One pair of floating hands neared Willy’s throat. "Honest," he said. "I didn’t think you were that dumb. I thought you were just letting Blunt make an ass of himself. I thought that—well, it was so easy. I even told Dick a couple of times. You just had to make a grab for ’em." Pane suddenly let out a harsh sound, like the cry of a wounded bull. "So who was this frail?" Kosalowsky asked heavily. "Yeah!" echoed the others. "Well, she was just a frail, I guess," Willy said. "I used to see her around the ship. On guard duty. I used to see her all the time. What the hell," he said, "You think I’m dumb or something? Why’d you think I was willing to stand guard all the time?" *END* _Transcribers note_: This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction February 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.