As they rose, they got more and more of the Sun's rays and the temperature went up slightly. The snow turned to rain, drenching them to the skin, and they climbed all the faster, anxious to get the job over with. At the top, the rain had died down to a faint drizzle. Lamoureux, looking off into the distance, could see as through a veil a range of sky-piercing mountains, their peaks gleaming in the Sun, their roots cleft with deep shadowed valleys. Between almost every pair of mountains was a saddlebacked ridge. "Landmarks," commented Lamoureux sourly. "To hell with them." "I told you it would be a waste of time, Captain." "Not in the least, McCracken. After all, you _might_ have broken your neck." They started down again, and in a half hour were back at the line where the rain changed to snow. Another hour took them to Gronski again. Lamoureux shook his head. "No sign of Kalinoff." "What do we do now?" "We go back to the ship and carry on from there. I don't know what steps we'll take after that, but at least we'll get back to shelter, out of this snow." "Which way is the ship?" "That," said Lamoureux, "is one question we can find the answer to." He spoke into his radio. "Haskell!" Haskell was alert. "Yes, Captain." "Keep your radio beam going. We're depending on it for direction." "Sure, Captain." Lamoureux snapped off the sending set. "Now let's get moving, before we freeze to death." The return trip was a slow one. Their spirits were all low, even McCracken's. Lamoureux pictured the return to Earth, the eager, and then disappointed, reception, and the wave of ridicule that would follow their account of the difficulties they had encountered. They stopped once to eat. Lamoureux estimated that they had supplies for another two and a half months left in the ship, not counting what would be needed for the return journey. They might as well stay here until those supplies were used up. They might possibly find Kalinoff during those two and a half months, although, with the Twilight Zone of the whole planet to look in, and no decent clues, not to mention the difficulties caused by the snow, the chances were none too bright. Nevertheless, they would have to do their best. The meal came to an end, and they started off again. They had gone only a few hundred yards, when Lamoureux noticed something wrong. "Haskell!" There was no reply. Haskell's radio beam had been shut off. * * * * * This was a little too much. Lamoureux let loose a streak of profanity that had even McCracken staring at him in awe. Then they started out again, trying, through the falling snow, and over the rocky ground, to keep in as straight a line as possible toward the ship. Lamoureux managed to sustain his spirits only by thinking of what he would do to his cook.