He joined us quietly, unobtrusively, at the radio grid.

Guy said, "Toh, listen to thishe's talking about us."

"The air always talks, these days, of the Bolton Cube," Toh said, in a soft, gentle voice with an indefinable accent.

He spoke perfect English. Guy, on Mercury, had had years to teach him and Tama.

"Right," said Guy. "And they're all excited because the news reporters can't find us." For a time we listened to the droning voice. Guy replenished our log fire.

"They don't mention Jimmy," he commented.

Jimmy Turk was my best friend. He had been with us on that memorable test flight of the Flying Cube, when we had gone, last fall, out of the Earth's atmosphere and met the Mercurian spaceship. He was an operative flyer in the newly established Interstate Patrol.

Then the newscaster did mention Jimmy: "It was thought that James Turk might be persuaded to reveal the hiding place of his too-modest friends. But it seems not. He visits them occasionally, and it is no secret that our reporters have tried many times to trail him to their lair. But he is fleet and cleveras clever in avoiding our pursuit as he is in tracking down criminals." Rowena laughed. "That newscaster is frank enough, anyway."

"Where is Tama?" Guy asked suddenly.

"Out flying," said Toh. "She left just a little while ago." Guy frowned. "She shouldn't be out. I've told hernot while there's still light."

"Pretty cold," I said.

"She has a knitted suit," said Rowena, and smiled. "I told her, too, that she shouldn't go, but she went. You know Tama.

But she can't go far. She can hardly fly with those clothes weighing her down, and the Earth's gravity" Guy went to the window, stood gazing out. Presently he called us.