"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.
"Very interesting, Malcolm! But wholly impractical and completely
absurd. We will remain here. And now--" He glanced at the high-riding
sun. "And now I think we should eat before setting up our camp. Tommy,
Hannigan--bring the electro-stove from the skiff. 'Tina, prepare lunch.
We'll pursue a more intelligent discussion of our situation on full
stomachs. Malcolm, bring cases from the skiff. We'll build a rough
table out here in the open."
He scowled impatiently, authoritatively about the strangely silent
group.