"But I believe I can approximate our position and state it in such a way as to cut to a minimum the time of any search that might be made for us. That is, if a space patrol ever comes close enough to get within range of Sparks' radio." "When," said Sparks, "and if I get it fixed." "When," said Malcolm confidently, "you get it fixed." Breadon gave in with as good grace as he could muster. "Well, all right," he conceded grudgingly. "We'll let that rest for now. Meanwhile, it is apparent that we can't escape Titan--or wherever we are--immediately. That being the case, our first task will be to set up a camp. This is as good a spot as any. We'll stay right here by the ship. We'll use the ship to sleep in at nights--" Greg coughed apologetically. "Mr. Breadon--" "Well, what now? More funnels, Malcolm?" "If you'll excuse me, sir--I don't believe it wise to make camp here. Nor to use the skiff for sleeping purposes." "And why not, my man?" That was J. Foster. "The conservation of what little fuel and power, we have, for one thing," said Greg. "Mr. Breadon's idea of using the skiff to sleep in was undoubtedly based on the plan of using the heating units. That we must not do. The time may come when we will need the skiff again, badly. We must save its fuel and electro-motors. "And as for making camp here beside the ship--" He hesitated. Crystal Andrews, her voice a trifle edged, as had been that of her father, prodded him for reply. "Well?" she demanded. "Go on, Malcolm!" "It wouldn't be safe, Miss. This is an exposed and vulnerable spot. Titan has--dangerous denizens." The words came reluctantly. "It would be much safer to take refuge in the hills. In one of those caves up there." Crystal gasped, "Caves! Us--living in a cave! Ridiculous!" J. Foster echoed her words vehemently. Breadon laughed curtly; Mrs. Andrews made a gesture of repugnance with a slim, pale, exquisitely manicured hand. Bert Andrews snorted. Of the tycoon's family, only Maud Andrews showed any inclination to heed the secretary's suggestion. Her old eyes glinted shrewdly; her head made the ghost of a pleased nod. * * * * * But others more openly approved his plan. The maid, 'Tina, watching Malcolm with curious attentiveness, nodded and said, "That is wise. I have heard tales about Titan and its--its denizens." Tommy O'Doul grinned delightedly. He said, "Caves! Boy, caves! Old-time stuff, huh, Greg?" And Sparks Hannigan had said, "That's right, folks! And it's past noon now. Might as well get going right away so's we can get settled before dark. Right, Greg?" And yet again there was the counter-play, the balance of Breadon's wealth, Breadon's name and Breadon's accustomed authority to the calm, sane logic of the slim young secretary. Breadon's curt laugh changed to something definitely antagonistic; his words sheered the muttering like a keen blade.