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Mason was frozen into a rigid statue, unable to move. "All right, Loring," yelled Shinny, "step back or I'll blast you like I did Mason!" Roger wrenched the rifle out of Loring's grasp and stepped back. "Good work, Mr. Shinny!" he said to the little spaceman. "You sure figured it right!" "Attention! Attention! This is Connel on the Polaris. Come in, Loring ..."

He smiled, and taking a fresh sheet of paper, he began the complicated calculations of escape time all over again. Connel slipped out of the control room and went below to the power deck, where Astro and Mr. Shinny had been working without sleep for over fifty hours. When Connel slipped into the room he found the two men puzzling over a drawing board.

Shinny! I'm the fixer of Spaceman's Row. You want something, come to me and I'll get it for you. I don't care why you're here. That ain't none of my business. But the fact remains that you're here, and you don't come down here unless you're in trouble space deep!" Roger looked at the little man more closely. "Suppose I am in something deep? What could you do for me?" he asked.

"When do we blast off?" "As soon as we get that space wagon in shape we hit the deep!" said Loring. "I think I need a drink on that," said Shinny. He yelled for the bartender, who brought rocket juice and Martian fizz. Roger picked up the glass of the sweet water and glanced around the table. "What's the name of that space wagon you've got buried in the jungles, Mr. Shinny?"

It was little French Fusie, holding up Jimmie's cap on the end of his shinny club, and smiling with the utmost good nature, but with infinite impudence, into Jimmie's face. At once there was a general laugh at Jimmie Ben's expense, who with a growl, seized his cap, and putting it on his head, skated off to his place.

Here, too, on brilliant winter days the life of the village found its centre of vivid interest and activity. For then the pond would be a black and glittering surface whereon wheeled and curved the ringing, gleaming blades of "fancy" skaters or whereon in sterner hours opposing "shinny" teams sought glory in Homeric and often gory contest. But those days and those scenes were now long since gone.

"But what will become of me? Shall I become prematurely aged, or shall I become a saint? Expect anything from your most devoted, but most sorely bored and perplexed, In one point the master was a great disappointment to Hughie; he could not be persuaded to play shinny.

We come again close to the beginning of the modern theatre an innyard with windows round about. The play is shinny in the gutters. Venders come and go, selling fruit and red suspenders. An ice wagon clatters off, with a half-dozen children on its tailboard." Flint flecked his ashes on the floor.

The two cadets climbed the ladder leading to the control deck. Seated in front of the control panel, Tom watched the sweeping hand of the solar clock. Connel paced nervously up and down behind him. Shinny and Alfie stood to one side also watching the great clock. "How much time, Corbett?" asked Connel for the dozenth time. "Junior gets his kick in the pants in ten minutes, sir," replied Tom.

Astro and Roger bent to the task of draining the fuel from their jet boats and loading it into Connel's. Alfie came over to join them, while Shinny and Connel scanned the sky overhead for some sign of the Polaris. "This is really a desperate situation to be in, isn't it, Roger?" asked Alfie.