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And Frithjof Haldgren, white of face and lips now instead of fiery red, stood silent and trembling while Chet fastened a jewel upon his grimy tattered blouse; then retired to his chair as if beaten back by the rolling waves of sound. But to Chet, as he watched the man go, came a quick sense of disappointment.

It was inconceivable that this imperious and dictatorial man could be so blind. "I can't do it, sir," he tried to explain. "You surely can't disregard that message, the old call for help. We were using that, you know, when Haldgren took off five years ago." No longer did a masking softness overlay the hard brittleness of the Commander's voice. "Your star!" he snapped.

What picture he had formed of Haldgren what he had expected of him he could not have told. Certainly it was not this slenderly youthful figure, nor this reaction that was more of fright than startled amazement. And the voice! Surely he had heard an involuntary, half-stifled scream! He came slowly to his feet. And he was wondering now if his deductions had been wrong.

I'm going to say what I please, and this is it, Commander: "Hang onto that jewel you were giving me. Keep it ready. For I'm going to the Moon. I'm going to find Haldgren, if he's still living when I get there. And, at the least, I will bring back some record to show he is the man we should honor. "Haldgren, alive or dead, was the first man to conquer space.

And Chet Bullard, within his metal helmet, was repeating in bewilderment: "Five years! Haldgren left five years ago! What does it mean?" Nor did he pause to realize that through his amazement was woven a thread of another hue, tinged faintly with jealousy that demanded of him: "Frithjof! Who is Frithjof who was taken away?"

And, instead of a lifeless globe, he had found this: a place peopled with strange, half-human life. And, more marvelous still, instead of Haldgren, whom he had come to seek, there had been a girl! Chet had recovered his ability to breathe, had made sure that the oxygen tank was intact; and now he called softly into the blackness of this dark vault where he had seen her thrown.

Haldgren nodded his shaggy head. "Some, but not many of the thousands we must face before ever we fight our way through to the outer world. No, my friend Bullard, that will never save us; we are doomed!"

And he saw, in that fraction of a second, a moving figure, another like himself, clad in an armored suit whose curves and fine-woven mesh caught the light in a million of sparkling flames. It was Haldgren, he told himself; and there was something that came chokingly into his throat at the thought. That lonely figure one tiny dot of life on a bleak and lifeless stage!

Bullard's enviable humiliation," he observed with venomous courtesy; and added: "Whatever similar honors were in store for Mrs. Harkness and myself are respectfully declined. We, too, are of the opinion that Pilot Haldgren deserves them instead of us." For an instant Chet's flashing smile drew his face into friendly lines. "Thanks!" he said.

Her face, so calm and pale, was turned upward to his. And his own voice trembled at first; then was steady and firm. "I love you. I've come a long way to tell you, and I didn't know why I came. And now it is too late." "Anita Haldgren," he said, and let his voice linger as he repeated the name, "Anita Haldgren a beautiful name a beautiful soul!