"You mean—piracy!" Bill gasped.
"Am I not the Prince of Space—'notorious interplanetary outlaw' as you have termed me in your paper? And is not the good of the many more than the good of the few? May I not take a few pounds of metal from a rich corporation, to save the earth for humanity?"
"I told you to count me in," said Bill. "The idea was just a little revolutionary."
"We haven't wasted any time while you were in New York. I have means of keeping posted on the shipments of vitalium from the moon. We have found that the sunship Triton leaves the moon in about twenty hours, with three months production of the vitalium mines in the Kepler crater. It should be well over two tons."
Thirty hours later the Red Rover was drifting at rest in the lunar lane, with ray tubes dead and no light showing. Men at her telescopes scanned the heavens moonward for sight of the white repulsion rays of the Triton and her convoy.
Bill was with Captain Brand in the bridge-room. Eager light flashed in Brand's eyes as he peered through the telescopes, watched his instruments, and spoke brisk orders into the tube.
"How does it feel to be a pirate?" Bill asked, "after so many years spent hunting them down?"
Captain Brand grinned. "You know," he said, "I've wanted to be a buccaneer ever since I was about four years old. I couldn't, of course, so I took the next best thing, and hunted them. I'm not exactly grieving my heart out over what has happened. But I feel sorry for my old pals of the Moon Patrol. Somebody is going to get hurt!"
"And it may be we," said Bill. "The Triton will be convoyed by several war-fliers, and she can fight with her own rays. It looks to me like a hard nut to crack."