The box contained a set of counterweights for the hydrogen integrator motors. No bar, nothing that might be utilized to twist off the eyebolts! Again he set to work. The next box was longer, heavier. It was coated with unpleasantly rancid oil. Tolto's broad chest was covered with blood, partly from gouges in his skin, partly from his crushed lips. But this time he found a bar. It was in the bottom, under some extra valves, but eventually his teeth closed on it, and he fell back, nearly exhausted, for a moment's rest. He heard a door slam beyond the galley. The words floated out: "--better go see how he's coming along." * * * * * The horrified mate saw the wrecked boxes, the blood-covered giant with a thick steel bar in his teeth, the extra valves scattered about the floor. He whipped out his neuro-pistol, pointed it at Tolto. But Tolto made no move to resist when the shaken officer gingerly took the bar out of his mouth. He did not move when several shipmen, called by the officer, moved everything out of reach. After half an hour, with many awed comments, they left him alone. Tolto's battered lips opened in what might have been a grin. Painfully he rolled off the single valve that had been digging into the small of his back. He patiently resumed the tedious task of bringing the valve in reach of his locked hands. The valve stem was stout, and a foot long. It was just long enough so that Tolto, by lying on his side, could reach one of the eyebolts. Inserting the stem, Tolto pulled toward him. The eyebolt turned without resistance. It was free to rotate, and could not be twisted off. A groan escaped from the prisoner. But in a few moments he tried bending upward. The leverage was highly disadvantageous that way. Still, straining with the last ounce of his strength, he was just able to do it. Pulling down was not so hard. It took fifty-four motions, up and down, before the tough metal cracked and one chain trailed free. It was not long afterward that the cook, turning from his work at the electric grill, stared into a face that had once been innocent and peaceful. It seemed the face of a demon. He would have shrieked, but Tolto took his arm between thumb and forefinger, saying gently: "Remember, little bug, what I said!" He was cast, dumb with fear, into the late prisoner's cell. * * * * * Tolto had not bothered to remove the chains, but only to twist them apart by means of such tools as he could find to permit free movement of his arms and legs. They dangled from him, tinkling musically. Now he strode into the main cabin. The ship's crew, having no guests, were playing the part of guests. A man who was shuffling cards, was the first to see him. The cards flew up and showered all over the room. "He's loose!" this shipman croaked, diving under the table.