Link offered to help in the sealing-off process. Thistlethwaite snapped at him.

“You tend to your knitting and I’ll tend to mine,” he said acidly. “You’re so smart at workin’ out things I want to keep to myself.”

“I only found out where we’re going,” said Link. “I didn’t find out why.”

“To get rich,” snapped Thistlethwaite. “That’s why! I want to get rich! I spent my life bein’ poor. Now I want to get kowtowed to! My first partner got money and he couldn’t wait to enjoy it. I’ve waited. I’m not telling anybody anything! I know what I’m goin’ to do. I got a talent for business. I never had a chance to use it. No capital. Now I’m going to get rich and do things like I always wanted to do.”

Link asked more questions and the little man turned waspishly upon him.

“That’s my business, like runnin’ this ship to where we’re goin’ is yours! You leave me be! I’m not riskin’ you knowin’ what I know. I’m not takin’ the chance of you figurin’ you’ll do better cheating me than playin’ fair.”

This was shrewdness, after a fashion. There are plenty of men who quite simply and naturally believe that the way to profit in any enterprise is to double-cross their associates. The whiskery man had evidently met them. He wasn’t sure Link wasn’t one of them. He kept his mouth shut.

“Eventually,” said Link, “I’m going to have to come out of overdrive to check my course. Is that all right with you?”

“That’s your business!” rasped Thistlethwaite. “You tend to your business and I’ll tend to mine!”

He disappeared, prowling around the ship, checking the air pressure, spending long periods in the engine room and not infrequently coming silently and secretly up the stairway to the control room to regard Link with inveterate suspicion.