“Have we got brimstone enough of our own to make the trip?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, sir—­more than enough.”

“How much have we got in cargo for Satan?”

“Eighteen hundred thousand billion quintillions of kazarks.”

“Very well, then, let his boarders freeze till the next comet comes.  Lighten ship!  Lively, now, lively, men!  Heave the whole cargo overboard!”

Peters, look me in the eye, and be calm.  I found out, over there, that a kazark is exactly the bulk of a hundred and sixty-nine worlds like ours!  They hove all that load overboard.  When it fell it wiped out a considerable raft of stars just as clean as if they’d been candles and somebody blowed them out.  As for the race, that was at an end.  The minute she was lightened the comet swung along by me the same as if I was anchored.  The captain stood on the stern, by the after-davits, and put his thumb to his nose and sung out—­

“Ta-ta! ta-ta!  Maybe you’ve got some message to send your friends in the Everlasting Tropics!”

Then he hove up his other suspender and started for’ard, and inside of three-quarters of an hour his craft was only a pale torch again in the distance.  Yes, it was a mistake, Peters—­that remark of mine.  I don’t reckon I’ll ever get over being sorry about it.  I’d ‘a’ beat the bully of the firmament if I’d kept my mouth shut.

But I’ve wandered a little off the track of my tale; I’ll get back on my course again.  Now you see what kind of speed I was making.  So, as I said, when I had been tearing along this way about thirty years I begun to get uneasy.  Oh, it was pleasant enough, with a good deal to find out, but then it was kind of lonesome, you know.  Besides, I wanted to get somewhere.  I hadn’t shipped with the idea of cruising forever.  First off, I liked the delay, because I judged I was going to fetch up in pretty warm quarters when I got through; but towards the last I begun to feel that I’d rather go to—­well, most any place, so as to finish up the uncertainty.

Well, one night—­it was always night, except when I was rushing by some star that was occupying the whole universe with its fire and its glare—­light enough then, of course, but I necessarily left it behind in a minute or two and plunged into a solid week of darkness again.  The stars ain’t so close together as they look to be.  Where was I?  Oh yes; one night I was sailing along, when I discovered a tremendous long row of blinking lights away on the horizon ahead.  As I approached, they begun to tower and swell and look like mighty furnaces.  Says I to myself—­

“By George, I’ve arrived at last—­and at the wrong place, just as I expected!”