"Not directly, he didn't come from Mars," said Neil. "He couldn't travel that far. He must have a base somewhere near. Perhaps he's a survivor from that bunch that was rubbed out on the Moon after they landed their big space-ship there last spring." "Thunder, that's so," admitted Bull Mike, as with no gentle hand he unfastened and plucked away the space helmet. The prisoner grimaced in impotent rage. "You're a heroic customer, attacking a defenseless ship!" scolded Bull Mike in very bad Martian. "What brought you here? Where's your headquarters?" They rose to their feet and allowed the prisoner to do likewise. He looked at each in turn, undaunted by the reversal of fortunes. "I'll tell you nothing," he said shortly in their own language. "Kill me if you want to." CHAPTER II An Incredible Story Bull Mike's open hand drove at him, its hard heel striking his chin. With a gasp the Martian collapsed and would have fallen had not Neil caught and supported him. "Here, none of that, Bull Mike!" barked Sukune. "You don't know your own strength--and very little else, either. Pour water on the fellow, Neil." The Martian revived. He fingered his bruised face and glared up at the three Terrestrials. He still refused to answer questions. But he couldn't have come all the way from home. "How far is it to Mars?" queried Bull Mike. "We'll see," said Neil, turning to the television and checking the distance-finding device on it. "H'm, Mars is nearly on the other side of the sun. 'Way out of flight-shot. That little asteroid shows at about a hundred and fifty million miles." "That asteroid!" repeated the Martian in a frightened voice. All three stared at him in surprise. He recovered himself. "What asteroid?" he queried more calmly. "Asking, are you?" said Neil. "Well, I think you know. Where does that asteroid come in?" "I'm not talking," said the Martian doggedly. "We'll remedy that," announced Sukune grimly. "Get that space-suit off of him, you two." The prisoner struggled fiercely, but his puny strength was futile against their muscles, attuned to Earth's greater gravity. Quickly they overpowered him and stripped away his armor of metal and insulated fabric. "Make him lie down on his face--so!" The Japanese had a hard gleam in his eye. "Hold him by the wrists, Neil. And you, Bull Mike, hold his ankles." They did so. "Will you talk now?" Sukune asked the Martian. "I'll not!" "Well," sighed Sukune, "this may seem a little crude, my friend, but it's necessary. Earth needs the information--and, if you'll remember, you _did_ attack an unarmed ship." Kneeling, he laid the tips of his fingers on the prisoner's flanks. It seemed no more than the lightest touch, yet the Martian shrieked out as if in an ecstasy of pain. "You'll talk?" prompted the torturer. "I'll talk! I'll talk!"