then," I managed at last, "you decided to prevent him from shoving you out of the real estate deal, eh?"
Shane nodded vigorously. "He couldn't double-cross me. I'm no dumbbell. He told me he was going out to look at them asteroids alone, and that if I'd give him the day's map of the mine field, he'd be able to pilot his space launch through without my help."
"And so you decided he was going to take some one else out there, to sell them the asteroids he'd promised you, eh?"
"Sure," said Shane. "So I figgered I'd fix it so he couldn't get through the mine field to show them asteroids to no one else. I gave him a map three days old. I knew that would stop him."
I had a vision of the Martian Clenoka, working by an incorrect map, spaceradioing the same useless map to his country's fleet waiting outside the harbor. The vision also pictured Clenoka and his staff in the space launch, trying to pilot themselves to safety with that inaccurate map. I had another vision of Clenoka's launch ploughing headlong into the first atomic mine it encountered, exploding to bits. The rest of the picture, the Martian raiding fleet, most inaccurately guided, trying to slip in through the mines into the harbor and blowing itself into blaze after blaze, was also there.
AND all because an irate Sergeant Shane didn't want to get hoodwinked out of some fraudulent real estate deal!
"I'm no sap," Shane repeated. "Not a bit. I wouldn't let him pull that wool over my eyes. I knew that would stop him!"
I almost choked at the way he used the word, "stop." As gently as I could, I asked, "Did it ever occur to you, Shane, that 'stopping' Clenoka that way would blow him into hell and ruin your real estate deal anyway?"
Sergeant Shane considered this. He rubbed his chin with a huge red hand. He squinted thoughtfully. He opened his mouth aghast.
"My God," he exclaimed, "I never thought of that!"
I just looked at him, shaking my head despairingly. Then, at last, I said, "But you really never were wise to the fact that Clenoka and his phony real estate office was nothing but a Martian fifth column front, were you?"
Shane grinned. "I never said I was. That was the Secret Service guy's idea. I didn't correct him. Why should I? After all, didn't I fix the works?"
"Yeah," I sighed in despair, "you fixed the works." I turned and started away. Shane's big paw suddenly grabbed my arm. I looked around. His brow was wrinkled with the impact of a sudden dawning revelation.
"Cork," Sergeant Shane gasped. "I'll bet Clenoka never really owned them asteroids he showed me!"
I didn't answer. What was there to say?
(Concluded from page 151)
the death penalty." He stepped to the door. "Beamish!" he called. "Come and guard this prisoner. We take off in ten minutes—as soon as I attend to one more detail."
"Detail?" echoed Vannie.
"Get your space-things back on. I'll dig out an overall for myself. We're dropping back to see your father."
Jan Conniston woke to the ministrations of his daughter and Zack Harpe. He rubbed his eyes, touched the bruise on his head, scowled. "You got loose,
