And he was savagely determined to keep them when he brought them out. Let Bill Olger and D'ulio go back with him, carrying a basketful of those wonderful stones? Why, within hours after they hit Venusport, half the riff-raff of the space lanes would know about their discovery and be heading for Mercury. No, when he lifted the Space Lark off Mercury, Olger and the Martian simply wouldn't be aboard. The thought of murder raised no particular horror in his brain. He had killed before. He whirled about and looked down at the cowering native girl. "You--belong me--now. You--take me--to these." He showed her a couple of the rhizoids. Tiny looked back at the swamp behind her and whimpered like a beaten puppy just once. Then she nodded her head slowly. Mallard grinned with satisfaction as he bent down to cut her loose. * * * * * The girl led Mallard back into the very heart of the swamp belt. The journey was sheer nightmare. Hour after hour they plodded on while Mallard's body was soaked with sweat and his lungs seemed ready to burst from the steamy air. But the feel of those stones in his pocket somehow kept him plodding along after the naked girl ahead of him. Those stones had magic in them. It seemed long eons before he saw Tiny come to a halt and looked fearfully around her. From her evident fright, Mallard guessed she was in a taboo place. She made a furtive gesture and he hurried up to her. He reached the spot where she stood and drew in his breath with a shuddering gasp. The swamp had thinned out at this point and there before him was a whole grove of the white fungus stumps! They stood in serried ranks, like a yardful of ghosts and Mallard knew that within those white stumps there was a fortune that no space rat had ever dreamed of before. He broke into a stumbling run forward, the girl completely forgotten. At the edge of the grove he paused only a moment to make sure the shielding light of the helmet was properly adjusted. Then he swung his blade down upon one of the white stumps. It split easily and he drew forth a perfect rhizoid, larger than any they had found so far. For a moment he held it shakily in his hand. Then he slipped it into the leather pouch he carried on his belt. In little more than an hour Mallard had filled the pouch he carried. He was working like a madman, now, the sweat pouring from him in torrents, and he was numb with fatigue but the fever in his brain swept away all thoughts of stopping. He wanted more of these gleaming stones. He wanted to fill his pockets with them, carry them away in his cupped hands. He was still moving forward on tottering feet when he heard Tiny scream. He whirled about savagely, his hand darting to the small blaster at his belt.