brightening up. "There is a chance after all."
So, we dived for the nearest observer post. Hektorum flashed his badge. He demanded control of the telescopes.
The telescopes of the observers were on the nearly airless surface of Mars, worked by remote control, and relayed their pictures to the astronomers in the interior of Mars by television. By its flaring rocket-jets the escaping spacecraft was soon picked out. Astronomers began figuring with elaborate formulae and slide-rules quite beyond my understanding.
"By its course and the acceleration used," said one at last, "I would say the vessel was heading for Phobos."
"I have reached the same conclusion," nodded another.
"Quite right," agreed a third.
"Indubitably correct," assented the fourth, putting the lid on it.
Phobos! One of the two moons of Mars. Bodies so small that it is only out of politeness to the planet that they are called moons at all.
"I must go to Phobos," said Weil Hektorum.
"You mean, we all go," said Wimp.
"My dear Princess,” began Weil, "it is dangerous. I cannot permit."
"You cannot permit!" barked Wimp, taking him by the shoulders and beginning to shake. The foolish girl saw an adventure offering and, well, I've told you about her little ways before.
To sum up, a very worried detective was persuaded to take the four of us with him. Otherwise Wimp would have shaken him until his teeth fell out. And the poor fellow could do nothing to defend himself against the Princess Royal of Mars. Neither could the secretly grinning astronomers.
So, we roared out of Mars in the Ace of Spades ship. Told you about that ship, didn't I? Captured from the Venusian Pirate, Belangor the Butcher, it was the shape and color of the Ace of Spades. The shape brought the center of gravity well to the rear, making the ship easy to control. Ordinary, cigar-shaped ships are liable to turn somersaults when the rockets start. And, being dull black in color, the ship was practically invisible in the background of space, especially with the white spots painted all over her to look like stars. In the hands of Belangor the Butcher, this sinister vessel had often crept upon the rich space-liners of Venus, rocket-jets shut off, silent and as good as invisible, till the moment came to strike, to leave a stripped shell full of corpses and to vanish once more. I am proud of the fact that Vans and I helped to rob this terror of some of his powers, even if Belangor and his men got away and have still not been rounded up by the Space Patrol of the Elastic Men of Venus.
Now, we used the useful ship with her space-camouflage for our own ends.
Weil Hektorum dashed about, making arrangements for the take-off. I tried to help, but all I got was, :Leave it to me! I can manage!" Conceited fool, I thought.
Hektorum was looking worried when he stopped running around checking stores and fuel. Wondering what he was going to say to old Usulor when he got back, I suppose. Because the Emperor of Mars is an excitable man, and when Wimp gets into danger somebody usually gets into trouble.
I do wish Wimp would be more careful.
CHAPTER IV
On the Wrong Foot
Anyway, I got the ship into space, Vans pulling any levers that were
