Now, from where Chiswell crouched they heard an animal-scream of rage as he realized how he'd been tricked: "Damn you!" And they heard the clatter of the gun as he flung it toward them. And their blood ran cold as Chiswell burst forth in a profane and garbled rush of mad words. The speech was so inarticulate, that it wasn't until he was nearly out of breath that they began to gather the purport: "... damn tricky are you? But I know you. I know why you're here, too ... want to get me away do you--but you won't!... it's all mine, do you hear, all mine!... mine!... you'll never get it.... I was here first ... keep away from me, keep away!... you just try it ... ha ha!... all mine!" The rush of words ended in a high pitched scream. They couldn't see him clearly now at all, but they could imagine froth on his lips. They heard his gurgling breath for a moment, then it died away and he was abruptly, cunningly silent. Prokle grabbed his partner's arm so tightly it hurt. His whispered voice was hoarse with emotion. "Hype! Did you hear? Did you? It means--it must mean--tell me I'm right, Hype! Tell me!" Garth jerked his arm away. He frowned, but there was a light in his eyes nearly as bright as Prokle's. "Sure," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. "I guess maybe I'm thinking the same thing you are." "Gold! It's happened, Hype, it's happened at last! And Chiswell found it for us; no wonder he's protecting that entrance over there, it's a vein!" Prokle laughed almost shrilly. "I never thought we'd make a strike, Hype. Never really. This means back to Earth, back to Chicago. We can buy off the rest of our time! There are ways, if you work it right!" But Hype Garth, long ago pirate of the spaceways, was looking at his partner silently and calmly. Prokle saw that look and stopped suddenly, abashed. He remembered. "Oh, I'm--damn, Hype, that's right. I didn't think--" "Sure, Prokle. I'm serving forty years on the Station. Might as well be life, for it was Chiswell and his crowd who put me there and were tickled to get me there. Sure, you can buy _your_ time, through the obvious channels, but not me. For me there's only one slight chance, a chance in a million. Know what that is?" Garth laughed softly. "One chance in a million, and here it is in my lap! If I can get Chiswell away from here and back to the Station, his sanity might return. I think it would! This sort of madness is only temporary. And then--_then_--he might be very appreciative." "_You_ of all persons oughta know better'n that, Hype!" But Garth went on musingly: "Yes, he might be appreciative to the extent of fixing pardons for both of us. And if he isn't ... why, then I'd just have to persuade him, wouldn't I? And I know some very good methods." His eyes glittered.