Mike the Angel the next three days in a which he against, at least to prevent it from a blue.

There was something the Brainchild, and Mike couldn’t what it was. He that he wasn’t the only one who had been asked questions by Snookums. The little to have a for questions.

Lieutenant Keku reported with a that Snookums had asked him if he who Commander Gabriel was.

“What’d you say?” Mike had asked.

Keku had spread his hands and said: “I gave him the about not being positive of my data, then I told him that you were as Mike the Angel and were well in the power field.”

Multhaus reported that Snookums had wanted to know what their was. The chief’s only possible answer, of course, had been: “I don’t have that data, Snookums.”

Dr. Morris Fitzhugh had more worried-looking than and had to Mike that he, too, why Snookums was such questions.

“All he’ll tell me,” the had reported, up his face, “was that he was data. But he refused, when ordered, to tell me what he needed the data for.”

Mike away from Leda Crannon as much as possible; was no place to try to a romance. Not that he her in such a manner as to give offense, but he to appear at all times.

She was busy, too. Keeping on Snookums was something of a problem. She had to watch him all the time. In the place, it was physically impossible; in the second place, she didn’t think Snookums would properly if he were to be under supervision. But now, for the time, she didn’t have the of what was going on the robot’s mind, and she couldn’t out. It puzzled and her, and herself and Dr. Fitzhugh there were long on Snookums’ behavior.

Mike the Angel himself waiting for something to happen. He hadn’t the what it was that he was waiting for, but he was as of its as he was of the that the Earth was an spheroid.

But he didn’t it to the way it did.

A game is the place for a to start.

Pete Jeffers was the pillow in his stateroom; Captain Quill was on the bridge, through the log.

In the officers’ Mike the Angel was looking at two hands of cards, he’d make his contract. His own hand the ace, nine, seven of spades; the ten, six, two of hearts; the jack, ten, nine, four, three, and of diamonds; and the eight of clubs.

Vaneski, his partner, had a club. Keku had answered with a take-out double. Mike had looked at his hand, that since he and Vaneski were vulnerable, while Keku and Liegnitz were not, he a pre-empt of three diamonds. Von Liegnitz passed, and Vaneski had answered with five diamonds. Keku and Mike had passed, and Liegnitz had doubled.

Now Mike was looking at Vaneski’s hand. No spades; the ace, queen, five, and four of hearts; the queen, eight, seven, and six of diamonds; and the ace, king, seven, four, and three of clubs.

And Liegnitz had the three of hearts.

It didn’t look good. His had the and king of trumps, and with Liegnitz’ lead, it looked as though he might have to try a on the king of hearts. Still, there might be another way out.

Mike in the from dummy. Keku in his seven, and Mike in his own deuce. He took the next with the of from dummy, and the eight in his own hand. The one after that came from dummy, too; it was the king of clubs, and Mike in the six from his own hand. From dummy, he the three of clubs. Keku over it with a jack, but Mike took it with his of diamonds.

He the seven of to in so he use up those clubs. Dummy took the with the six of diamonds, and out with the four of clubs.

Mike that Keku must—absolutely must—have the king of hearts. Both his take-out and Liegnitz’ lead pointed toward the king in his hand. Now if....

Vaneski had moved around Mike to watch the play. Not one of them noticed Lieutenant Lew Mellon, the Medical Officer, come into the room.

That is, they he had come in, but they had him thereafter. He was such a that he to into the of the once he had his entrance.

Mike had taken seven tricks, and, as he had expected, the to Liegnitz’ five of diamonds. When the German the nine of hearts, Mike he had the game. He put in the queen from dummy, Keku in his king triumphantly, and Mike it with his four of diamonds.

If, as he suspected, his opponents’ and king of diamonds were split, he would them by the next and then make a clean of the board.

He in his nine of diamonds.

He just to at Liegnitz as the his king.

Then he out with one foot, kicking at the leg of Liegnitz’ chair. At the same time, he yelled, “Jake! Duck!”

He was almost too late. Mellon, his with a mixture of anger and hatred, was just Jakob Liegnitz. In one hand was a spanner, which he was with on the navigator’s skull.

Von Liegnitz’ chair started to topple, and Liegnitz himself away from the blow. The him on the shoulder, and he in pain, but he on moving away from Mellon.

The something and the again.

By this time, Keku, too, was on his feet, moving toward Mellon. Mike the Angel got Mellon, trying to at the metal tool in Mellon’s hand.

Mellon to him, for he jumped sideways, out of Mike’s way, and at the same time, Mike on the with his heel.

Von Liegnitz had it to his by this time and was the of Mellon’s arm with his own forearm. His other out toward Mellon’s face. It connected, sending Mellon into Mike the Angel’s arms.

Von Liegnitz the out of Mellon’s hand and it toward the medic’s jaw. It was only away when Keku’s hand the navigator’s wrist.

And when the big Hawaiian’s hand on, Liegnitz’ hand stopped almost dead.

Mellon was screaming. “You ——!” He ran out a of and almost un-understandable words. “I’ll kill you! I’ll do it yet! You away from Leda Crannon!”

“Calm down, Doc!” Mike the Angel. “What the hell’s the with you, anyway?”

Von Liegnitz was still straining, trying to away from Keku to take another at the medic, but the Hawaiian him easily. The had into his native German, and most of it was unintelligible, for an occasional to of animal life.

But Mellon was paying no attention. “You! I’ll kill you! Lecher! Dirty-minded, filthy....”

He on.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he his on Mike’s toe. At least, he to; he’d have done it if the toe had been there when his came down. But Mike moved it just two and the blow.

At the same time, though, Mellon twisted, and Mike’s shift of position his on the man’s and arms. Mellon almost got away. One hand the from Liegnitz, had been by the pressure of Keku’s fingers.

Mike had no choice but to a hard left into the man’s plexus. Mellon like an overcoat.

By this time, Liegnitz had down. “Let go, Keku,” he said. “I’m all right.” He looked at the on the deck. “What the do you was him?” he asked quietly.

“How’s your shoulder?” Mike asked.

“Hurts like the devil, but I don’t think it’s busted. But why did he do it?” he repeated.

“Sounds to me,” said Keku dryly, “that he was of you. He didn’t like the times you took Leda Crannon to the while we were at Chilblains.”

Jakob Liegnitz to look at the smaller man in wonder. “Lieber Gott” he said finally. “I only took her out a of times. I he liked her, but—” He stopped. “The guy must be off his bearings.”

“I on his breath,” said Mike. “Let’s him to his and lock him in until he up. I’ll have to report this to the captain. Can you him, Keku?”

Keku and down. He put his hands under Mellon’s armpits, him to his feet, and him over his shoulder.

“Good,” said Mike the Angel. “I’ll walk you and him one if he up and wise.”

Vaneski was to one side, his pale, his blank.

Mike said: “Jake, you and Vaneski go up and make the report to the captain. Tell him we’ll be up as soon as we’ve taken of Mellon.”

“Right,” said Liegnitz, his shoulder.

“Okay, Keku,” said Mike, “forward march.”

Lieutenant Keku the to Mellon’s stateroom, the door aside, in, and at the plaque. The plates up, the room in brightness.

“Dump him on his sack,” said Mike.

While Keku put the Mellon on his bed, Mike let his around the room. It was neat—almost too neat, overfussiness. The medical books were on one shelf, all in order. Another a copy of the International Encyclopedia, English edition, plus dictionaries, one on medical terms and another on ones.

On the a copy of the Bible, York translation, opened to the Book of Tobit. Next to it were of blank paper and a small traveling clock sat on them as a paperweight.

His was neatly, in the manner, with his shoes in their proper places and his all up in a row.

Mike walked around the room, looking at everything.

“What’s the matter? What’re you looking for?” asked Keku.

“His liquor,” said Mike the Angel.

“In his desk, left-hand drawer. You won’t anything but a bottle of port; Mellon was a drinker.”

Mike opened the drawer. “I won’t that, as he is.”

Surprisingly enough, the bottle of was almost full. “Did he have more than one bottle?” Mike asked.

“Not so as I know. Like I said, he didn’t drink much. One of port was about his limit.”

Mike frowned. “How his to you?”

“Not bad. Two or three drinks, maybe.”

“Mmmm.” Mike put the bottle on top of the desk, then walked over to the small case that was near one wall. He it and it open. It was the medical for Space Service physicians.

The once Captain Quill’s voice came over it. “Mister Gabriel?”

“Yes, sir?” said Mike without around. There were no in the private of the officers and crew.

“How is Mister Mellon?” A Space Service physician’s is used as a of address; three out of four Space Service officers have a doctor’s of some kind, and there’s no point in calling 75 of the officers “doctor.”