"I thought we might get out in the Silver Death," continued the captain, "but the entrance is entirely blocked by our own ship, and I'm afraid it will never move again."
Then Jean's clear voice cut in. "How about the space phone on the Silver Death? Won't it work?"
"Why, of course it will," laughed the captain, amused at his own stupidity.
Stumbling and tripping in their haste, the three hurried through the open air lock of the pirate craft, into the pilot room.
Holden feverishly set to work, whirling the strange dials, pushing this button, then that. At last a faint roar sounded in the loud speaker. Pressing his helmet against the transmitter, so that the vibrations would carry his voice, he shouted, "Ganymede, Los Angeles, Holden calling."
"What ho?" came a cheery voice, which he recognized as belonging to Huges, commander of the Los Angeles.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he explained the situation. Busy days followed. Hexoxen and Europium from the San Francisco were transferred to the other ships, with as much of the treasure collected by the pirates as could be loaded into the cramped quarters.
With Huges and Rogers assisting, Holden revised the schedule for planting the charges.
"We simply haven't time," he explained, "to set the charges as close together as I had planned. There's nothing to do but get all of them in that we can, and then hope that conditions in the interior of the moon will be of a nature to promote the action of the hexoxen."
The ships' crews understood only too well the importance and danger of their work, and during the days that followed they toiled like a gang of madmen. Parties raced each other over the rough surface of the dead satellite, grimly determined that their efforts to save the world should not be in vain. Even the men of the party which had been rescued, weakened as they were by their long stay in the pirate cave, insisted on giving what help they could.