"I can't quite believe that," Dorothy replied, though a cold chill struck at her heart as she remembered the inhuman crime attributed to this man, and she quailed at the thought of being in his charge, countless millions of miles from earth, a thought only partly counteracted by the fact that she was now armed. "He has treated us with every consideration so far, let's hope for the best. Anyway, I'm sure that we'll get back safely." "Why so sure? Have you something up your sleeve?" "No--or yes, in a way I have, though nothing very definite. I'm Dorothy Vaneman, and I am engaged to the man who discovered the thing that makes this space-car go...." "That's why they kidnapped you, then--to make him give up all his rights to it. It's like them." "Yes, I think that's why they did it. But they won't keep me long. Dick Seaton will find me, I know. I feel it." "But that's exactly what they want!" cried Margaret excitedly. "In my spying around I heard a little about this very thing--the name Seaton brings it to my mind. His car is broken in some way, so that it will kill him the first time he tries to run it." "That's where they underestimated Dick and his partner. You have heard of Martin Crane, of course?" "I think I heard his name mentioned in the office, together with Seaton's, but that's all." "Well, besides other things, Martin is quite a wonderful mechanic, and he found out that our Skylark was spoiled. So they built another one, a lot bigger, and I am sure that they are following us, right now." "But how can they possibly follow us, when we are going so fast and are so far away?" queried the other girl, once more despondent. "I don't quite know, but I do know that Dick will find a way. He's simply wonderful. He knows more now than that Doctor DuQuesne will ever learn in all his life, and he will find us in a few days. I feel it in my bones. Besides, I picked Perkins' pockets of these two pistols. Can you shoot an automatic?" "Yes," replied the other girl, as she seized one of the guns, assured herself that its magazine was full, and slipped it into her pocket. "I used to practise a lot with my father's. This makes me feel a whole lot better. And call me Peggy, won't you? It will seem good to hear my name again. After what I've been through lately, even this trip will be a vacation for me." "Well, then, cheer up, Peggy dear, we're going to be great friends. Let's go get us all something to eat. I'm simply starved, and I know you are, too." * * * * * The presence of the pistol in her pocket and Dorothy's unwavering faith in her lover, lifted the stranger out of the mood of despair into which the long imprisonment, the brutal treatment, and the present situation had plunged her, and she was almost cheerful as they drew themselves along the hand-rail leading to the tiny galley.