"Hi! Is it you, Travers? What's the matter, can't you sleep either?"
Mark's steps slowed, and he breathed in relief. He'd been wrong. After all, the man had a right to be up.
They met near the spaceship, and Ferris waved a hand toward the crest of the hill. "I was just looking at the Stone. It's the damnedest thing!"
"Yes. Brownell tells me—"
Ferris' hand moved like lightning. Mark found himself staring into the stub end of a neutro-gun. Ferris was no longer smiling and casual.
"In!" he snarled. "Get in there—quick!" He gestured toward the ship, and Mark noticed the door was open. He moved toward it slowly, then paused, started to turn.
"I'll blast you, Travers!"
Mark shrugged, entered. Ferris came quickly behind him.
"That's better. I don't want to rouse any of the others. Sounds carry far on this world." He paused and grinned, with all but his eyes. "Sure, Travers, I was looking at the Stone. I'd like to get it back to Earth, but it's too much for me. Guess I'll just have to be satisfied with the Frequency Tuner. The Bureau of Inventions will pay me a handsome price for it, no questions asked."
"You sneaking, double-crossing rat," Mark said slowly. "You'll never get away with this!"