"There goes Fane!" Rick yelled, pointing.
But while others took up the cry, Rick spied a piece of white notepaper at his feet. He picked it up and read:
"I'll drop this where you'll find it, Mills. So long. Thanks for the interest in me. It's flattering. I feel something is going to happen. I'm a lone wolf, unused to schoolbook greenhorns. I'm playing it single, and taking French leave. It's safer. I know you're supposed to go with a bunch into the dark hemisphere. Maybe I'll see you—if you live. Fane...."
Others read the note over Rick's shoulders. And other voices expressed some of Rick's scattered thoughts.
"Damn Fane! Something screwy about him. I always knew...."
"Sure! What's he trying to pull? What does he know about Mercury that he never told? Running out on us, now, huh? Six months he spent here once. Bet he did kill Martell and Jacobs! What is he after now? And what has he found out about the war machines that must be here?..."
"Easy, guys. No wolf-pack talk...."
"Easy—hell! If he didn't know his way around he'd never be wandering off like that on foot! His running off means no good...."
Then someone raised a long-range blaster. But before it could be fired at the dodging and elusive Fane, Nostrand struck the weapon down. The runaway had already reached the darkward foothills.
"It's no use trying to stop him now," Nostrand said.