“I’m not going to murder you,” Duncan said. “The Plutonians will take care of that.” “You’re crazy!” Briefly a flash of murderous fury showed in Duncan’s eyes. He repressed it. “I’m taking this boat to Pluto. I’m going to blast hell out of the Plutonians. They’ll get us eventually, all of us. That’ll be swell. I don’t want to live very long now. But before I die, I’m going to smash as many of the Plutonians as I can, because they killed Andrea. And you two are going with me, because you got Andrea into this mess.” Hartman said shakily, “It’s suicide. No ship can get within a million miles of Pluto!” “This ship can. It’s dead black, with rocket screens. And the Plutonians haven’t found us yet—which proves something. Hold it!” The gun flashed into Duncan’s hand as Olcott jerked forward. “I’ll kill you myself if I have to, but I’d rather let the Plutonians do it.” He motioned the others to the back of the cabin as a light flashed on the board. After a moment Duncan nodded. “That was the _Maid_. They managed to repair their radio. Andrea didn’t have time to smash it thoroughly before. They’re talking to a patrol boat.” Olcott’s teeth showed. “Well?” “We don’t want to be stopped—now.” Duncan fingered the controls. The bellow of rockets grew louder. A shuddering vibration rocked the little cruiser. “Not too fast!” Hartman said warningly. “This ship crashed once. It’s still weak.” For answer Duncan only increased the power. The thunder of the tubes grew deafening. Already they had crossed the Lunar Line, heading outward in the plane of the ecliptic. Duncan rose and went to the spacesuit that held Andrea’s body. He wrenched the intertron knob free from the Helmet. “We want no Varra spy here.” The knob was not glowing, and, without power, the Varra was not _en rapport_ with the Helmet, but Duncan was taking no chances. Grimly he went back to the controls. Hartman and Olcott watched him, vainly trying to fight back their fear. The heavy, crashing roar of the rockets mounted to a deafening crescendo. CHAPTER FOUR The Destroying Avenger Named after the Greek god of the underworld, desolate, lifeless and forbidding as Hell itself, Pluto revolved in its tremendous orbit, between thirty-seven hundred million and four thousand million miles from the Sun. Such distances are staggeringly inconceivable when we attempt to use human yardsticks. Men cannot stand the strain of such voyages without special precautions. Suspended animation is usual on the long hops, and Duncan had made use of the cataleptic drug he found at hand in the cruiser’s emergency supply locker.