Rawson shot one word at the cabin boy. "Durk?"

"Yes, sir. It was him said it."

"You know you're a stool pigeon?"

The boy's freckled face looked flustered. "I--I didn't mean, sir--that

is." He gulped. "I thought it was my duty, sir."

Rawson smiled and there was fatherly tenderness in his voice. "Good,

Mr. Seymour. I like your loyalty. You'll make a Star Point man yet."

Rawson picked up the paper from his desk. "I have just signed a

recommendation that you be admitted to the class of the year 2356."

Young Seymour's freckled face spread wide in a grin--so wide that it

drowned out his face. "Gee, sir. Thanks. Gee! _Star Point!_"

"I've been keeping an eye on you," Rawson continued. "I saw you

studying in your spare time."

Rawson leaned back and reflected. "I was like that ten years ago. I

worked hard! And this is my first command. I'm proud of it."

His voice cracked out suddenly like a whip. "And by God, no man,

nothing, will make me dishonor my gold star or take it away from me!"

His eyes stabbed at Seymour. "Now, what about Durk and the mutiny?"

"He says you're a sissy, sir. Afraid of the storm. He says you ain't

got no business--"

"Very good, Mr. Seymour. That will be all."

* * * * *

Rawson watched with a fond smile as Seymour departed.

Rawson had no intention of letting his precious cargo of serum be

lost or his first space ship wrecked because of Durk's desire for the

captaincy.

He picked up a volume "_Cross Currents of Space_" from his book shelf

and opened it. After poring intently through many pages, he snapped to

his crane-like feet with a grin.

They were approaching Orus--the planet which was covered with borax

sand.

Rawson drew together his gangling frame, hung together with tremendous

muscles and casually strode on his long legs into the control room.

The crew worked under the emergency lights dismantling the control

panel. Durk's bullying voice urged them to speed like the slave whips

of Jupiter. His face marked with his years in the space lanes like a

freighter's meteor scars was covered with streaks of oil.

"Orus dead ahead," Rawson remarked with a grin. "It wouldn't do to set

the _Star Flight_ down for repairs."

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