"We could move the ship over to the ascent," I suggested. "Then it would be near enough for us to jump in whenever any of the things got too close." Pearce grinned in delight. "That's the answer!" I moved the ship the next day. The stratagem worked satisfactorily enough, enabling us to find almost a dozen more of the crimson jewels. But the need for constant watchfulness proved to be an increasing strain upon our nerves. And the number of the butterfly-creatures seemed to be growing. It seemed to be a season for the things, as late Spring brings the appearance of butterflies on Earth. At last our treasure hunt became too dangerous to continue. The butterfly-creatures were too numerous, and in addition the gems had grown too hard to find. Pearce and I decided on one last trip, and this on his own argumentative insistence. It was during that final search that I made the discovery which led to Pearce's death. I'd been probing among the rocks for an hour or so, meanwhile keeping a wary eye upon a group of butterfly-creatures circling in the sky some distance away. Suddenly I detected the telltale, reddish glitter of a gem. As I reached for it, a thin, tinkling sound startled me. I jerked erect, my senses flaring in alarm. But I saw nothing near me that indicated danger, and reached once more for the gem. * * * * * The next instant I leaped frantically to my feet and ran into the ship, which rested nearby. I slammed shut the port, and leaned against it, breathing harshly from my exertions and from fright at the narrowness of my escape. Like the pieces of a puzzle falling together, something became horribly clear to me. And I knew suddenly just what I had to do. From the box in which Pearce and I had kept them, I took the gems. Then I left the ship, first having made certain that none of the butterfly-creatures were near, and with a large rock pounded each and every one of the gems to bits. I was finishing this task when Pearce returned. He stared at me and asked: "Why, what in the world have you been doing?" I pulled my machine-pistol from its holster, pointed it at him, and explained. I couldn't have taken any chances with Pearce. I knew what his reaction would be. I wasn't wrong. He seemed to go mad. His face darkened with a terrible, overwhelming fury. "Lies! All lies!" he shrieked. "It's just a plot to trick me out of my share." I tried to reason with him, but he wouldn't listen to me. He shouted down my attempts with unspeakable profanity. My machine-pistol was the only thing that kept him from tearing at me like an insensate beast. I was trying to get Pearce to calm down when several butterfly-creatures suddenly darted toward us. They had evidently been circling nearer and nearer while we talked, seizing the opportunity presented by our inattention.