"All right, Hype, I've got an idea. We'll finish off Chiswell--we've _got_ to do that. Then we'll mine the gold. We'll get every ounce that's here, and that ought to be plenty! Then I could get back to Earth myself--and with all that wealth I could help _you_! I'd make the proper contacts, bribe the right people--you know how it's done. And I'd really try, Hype. And you know you can trust me!" "Yes, I know I can. And I know you'd try, Prokle. But you simply haven't any idea what you'd be up against, trying to buy a pardon for _me_. Any other man, yes. But you see, Prokle, the Earth Corporations would never let it go through. They know I'd soon be back pirating the Space Lanes again, and I would, too! I hear that pirating has been pretty tame since I've been away, if you know what I mean." Garth smiled reminiscently. Across to them came Chiswell's whimpering, his half-sobs of fright as he heard them whispering. He was like a trapped wild animal, not quite daring to flee for fear they would pounce upon him. Prokle's sullenness was slowly mounting to anger again. There was sweat upon his brow. His face twisted with indecision. Neither man had moved from where they lay, prone beside the dying fire. Garth looked at his partner and said: "I'm going to leave it squarely to you, Prokle. The decision's all yours." "Damn you, Hype!" Hype simply watched. He wasn't smiling any more, for already he knew what the decision would be. He saw the fanatic light return to his partner's eyes. He saw his jaw set determinedly. Prokle wiped the sweat from his brow, and his body tensed. The lure of the gold.... Prokle twisted around to face Garth squarely then, but he couldn't look at him squarely as he said in a voice that was hardly audible: "I--I can't give it up, Hype! It's too much to ask!" And with a sudden little push he was on his feet and bounding low across the space toward the cave and Chiswell. * * * * * The action was too sudden for Garth to do anything. He couldn't even get to his feet, much less intervene. He saw two leaps carry Prokle halfway across the space. He heard a frightened little cry from Chiswell, and suddenly he felt very sorry for him. The last twenty feet Prokle literally soared, almost horizontally. He leaped too wide, but managed to reach out and grasp the startled Chiswell by the throat. They fell lazily to the ground in a tangled heap, Chiswell bleating in thin terror like a lamb with a wolf at its throat. Trapped animals can be very dangerous in their terror. Prokle's hold loosened and he rolled over lightly. From his distance, Garth saw Chiswell's hand come up. He glimpsed something massive in it. He cried out a warning, and Prokle twisted around. But not in time. Garth saw the mass of rock descend, and he heard an awful crunching sound as it smashed Prokle's skull.