Tolliver blinked. He had taken her for three or four years older. Jeffers now ignored him, intent upon the girl. "Daddy gave me the title of tenth vice-president mostly as a joke, when he told me to find out what was wrong with operations on Ganymede. I have _some_ authority, though. And you look like the source of the trouble to me." "You can't prove anything," declared Jeffers hoarsely. "Oh, can't I? I've already seen certain evidence, and the rest won't be hard to find. Where are your books, Mr. Jeffers? You're as good as fired!" The manager dropped heavily to his chair. He stared unbelievingly at Betty, and Tolliver thought he muttered something about "just landed." After a moment, the big man came out of his daze enough to stab an intercom button with his finger. He growled at someone on the other end to come in without a countdown. Tolliver, hardly thinking about it, expected the someone to be a secretary, but it turned out to be three members of Jeffers' headquarters staff. He recognized one as Rawlins, a warehouse chief, and guessed that the other two might be his assistants. They were large enough. "No stupid questions!" Jeffers ordered. "Lock these two up while I think!" Tolliver started for the door immediately, but was blocked off. "Where should we lock--?" the fellow paused to ask. Tolliver brought up a snappy uppercut to the man's chin, feeling that it was a poor time to engage Jeffers in fruitless debate. In the gravity of Ganymede, the man was knocked off balance as much as he was hurt, and sprawled on the floor. "I _told_ you no questions!" bawled Jeffers. The fallen hero, upon arising, had to content himself with grabbing Betty. The others were swarming over Tolliver. Jeffers came around his desk to assist. * * * * * Tolliver found himself dumped on the floor of an empty office in the adjoining warehouse building. It seemed to him that a long time had been spent in carrying him there. He heard an indignant yelp, and realized that the girl had been pitched in with him. The snapping of a lock was followed by the tramp of departing footsteps and then by silence. After considering the idea a few minutes, Tolliver managed to sit up. He had his wind back. But when he fingered the swelling lump behind his left ear, a sensation befuddled him momentarily. "I'm sorry about that," murmured Betty. Tolliver grunted. Sorrow would not reduce the throbbing, nor was he in a mood to undertake an explanation of why Jeffers did not like him anyway. "I think perhaps you're going to have a shiner," remarked the girl. "Thanks for letting me know in time," said Tolliver. The skin under his right eye did feel a trifle tight, but he could see well enough. The abandoned and empty look of the office worried him. "What can we use to get out of here?" he mused. "Why should we try?" asked the girl. "What can he do?" "You'd be surprised. How did you catch on to him so soon?"