Rusty was pushed into a chair.
"Okay," said the captain. "Talk! We know you got this boat from the Great Moon near Pluto. We know you've been terrorizing the terrestrial traffic lanes for days. You killed nine men at the Great Moon space port. Where you come from?"
As calmly as possible, Rusty told his complete story, from the beginning of his mission in New York to his awakening presence in the ship. Hearing the story, he knew himself it was no good.
When he finished the patrolmen laughed.
"A good story anyway," said the officer, "but with its flaws. Editor Russell's dead and you can prove nothing. You lie! You could not have escaped Pluto, even in the fantastic way you said. And you might have waded the sea but no man could survive the jungle of the Great Moon. Then, of course, you and your bloody crew have been preying upon the commerce lines for two days, destroyed one liner. Even the bodies in there could convict you of murder. Give up, lad. You're a goner!"
Rusty sought vainly for belief. They must believe him! He could not return to Pluto again.
Without further ceremony, he was forced into a space suit.
"You know the law concerning piracy or murder in the space lanes, of course," said the Captain, adjusting his helmet. "Interplanetary law authorizes death at apprehension."
It could not be.
But he was carried to the patrol ship, locked in a guarded cell.