In a moment, he could feel the rumble of the rockets through the deck, and then it was out of his hands for several minutes. "That wasn't so bad," Betty admitted some time later. "Did you go in the right direction?" "Who knows?" retorted Tolliver. "There wasn't time to check _everything_. We'll worry about that after we make your call." "Oh!" Betty looked helpless. "It's in my pocket." Tolliver sighed. In their weightless state, it was no easy task to pry her out of the spacesuit. He thought of inquiring if she needed any further help, but reminded himself that this was the boss's daughter. When Betty produced a memo giving frequency and call sign, he set about making contact. It took only a few minutes, as if the channel had been monitored expectantly, and the man who flickered into life on the screen wore a uniform. "Space Patrol?" whispered Tolliver incredulously. "That's right," said Betty. "Uh ... Daddy made arrangements for me." Tolliver held her in front of the screen so she would not float out of range of the scanner and microphone. As she spoke, he stared exasperatedly at a bulkhead, marveling at the influence of a man who could arrange for a cruiser to escort his daughter to Ganymede and wondering what was behind it all. When he heard Betty requesting assistance in arresting Jeffers and reporting the manager as the head of a ring of crooks, he began to suspect. He also noticed certain peculiarities about the remarks of the Patrolman. * * * * * For one thing, though the officer seemed well acquainted with Betty, he never addressed her by the name of Koslow. For another, he accepted the request as if he had been hanging in orbit merely until learning who to go down after. _They really sent her out to nail someone_, Tolliver realized. _Of course, she stumbled onto Jeffers by plain dumb luck. But she had an idea of what to look for. How do I get into these things? She might have got me killed!_ "We do have one trouble," he heard Betty saying. "This tractor driver, Tolliver, saved my neck by making the ship take off somehow, but he says it's set for a six-month orbit, or economy flight. Whatever they call it. I don't think he has any idea where we're headed." Tolliver pulled her back, holding her in mid-air by the slack of her sweater. "Actually, I have a fine idea," he informed the officer coldly. "I happen to be a qualified space pilot. Everything here is under control. If Miss Koslow thinks you should arrest Jeffers, you can call us later on this channel." "Miss Koslow?" repeated the spacer. "Did she tell you--well, no matter! If you'll be okay, we'll attend to the other affair immediately." He signed off promptly. The pilot faced Betty, who looked more offended than reassured at discovering his status. "This 'Miss Koslow' business," he said suspiciously. "He sounded funny about that." The girl grinned.