Ferrell was bewildered.
"But I don't see...." he stuttered.
"It's going to be confusing," Dauna told him. "But, try to understand. Jeff Blake, the real Jeff I mean, was killed a month ago, while holding up a space ship near Mars."
Ferrell acted for a moment as though he were going to faint. Then he got control over himself. He stared at Blake with unbelieving eyes.
"Then—you're—Wade...!"
Blake nodded.
"I couldn't seem to get a line on this Silver Mask gang," he admitted hesitantly. "When O'Toole wired Jeff to return I couldn't figure out why. O'Toole and I have both known that Jeff was a tramp and a space pirate. I knew one thing that O'Toole didn't. The space authorities informed me a month ago that Jeff was dead. I was suspicious of O'Toole from the first. I caught a local rocket and boarded the moon liner in space. With some artificial tan, a space uniform and a lot of bluff I managed to play the part. It fooled everyone but Dauna. She knew almost from the first, but she kept my secret."
Walter Ferrell backed into the lounge car. He sat down abruptly.
"I know you've done something I never thought possible," he admitted. "And to prove my gratitude I'll apologize for everything I've ever said against Wade Blake. From now on you're half owner of the 'Hope to Horn'."