"We mustn't let Mom know how close I came to not getting back," Jon said as he staggered along the little trail, although as he went his strength and limberness returned somewhat. "I'll say not. I'll keep my trap shut. One thing's sure, though. There'll be no more fishing trips here." "Aw, I wouldn't say that," Jon snapped back. "I know enough now to stay on the bank. And if these are good eating, it's too easy a way to get fresh food to waste." They were just climbing into the lock when again that sudden heavy downpour of rain began. Jon grinned as he opened the inner door. "Glad to see the rain this time. It'll keep Mom from wondering why my clothes are so wet." As soon as they had changed to dry clothing, Jon went to clean his "fish," then took them to his mother in the galley. Jak, meanwhile, was in the control room, rearranging and trying to begin the classification of his plant specimens. When their mother called them to table, the boys sniffed appreciatively at the delicious odor of the nicely browned fish-things. "They cook nicely, but how do we tell if they're good to eat?" Mrs. Carver asked. Jak flipped one onto his plate and cut off a tiny portion. "Tell you soon." And he forked the piece into his mouth. With his tongue and teeth he tested it, but did not swallow. "Tastes good," he said a moment later, retrieving the piece with his fork and laying it on the side of his plate. "One more test." He cut off another small piece and took it into the storeroom, where he placed a piece in one of the cages containing half a dozen white rats. A couple of them came up immediately, smelled the food, then one of them gobbled it up. Jak watched anxiously for a moment, then gave another rat a piece. It, too, gobbled it up, and then joined the rest who were pressed against the wires begging for more. Jak stood watching for one minute, then two, then three. Satisfied that the meat had done the rodents no harm, he returned to the table. "It's all right," he said and began eating. "The rats liked it and it didn't seem to hurt them." The others pitched in then, and soon the entire platterful was reduced to a pile of bones on the three plates. "How's Father been today," Jak asked. "He was asleep when I glanced at him after getting back." "He moved about several times, tossing and groaning a bit, and seeming to be trying to touch his broken leg, although...." "Probably it itches inside the cast," Jak said. "He didn't regain full consciousness, but I tried spooning some concentrated broth into his mouth, and he was able to swallow a little of it." "Golly, that's great!" Jak exclaimed in relief. "His drifting out of his coma from time to time shows there is no real damage to his brain, and now he's evidently beginning to come out of the concussion." "Whatever it is, I feel more sure he'll soon regain consciousness and be all right." Mrs. Carver spoke with quiet confidence.