WHERE THERE HAD BEEN nearly a full tub, there was now only a little moisture left in the bottom. While Tex watched, that too disappeared, leaving the wood dry.
Tex picked up an undershirt. It was as dry as any he'd ever hung in the prairie air, back in Texas. He touched his face. The skin was like sun-cured leather. His hair had not a drop of fog on it.
Yet the mist hung as heavy as ever.
Captain Smith came out of the radio room, looking up at the net and the guns. Tex heard him mutter, quite unconsciously.
"It's the rust that'll beat us. It's the rust that'll lose us Venus in the end."
Tex said, "Captain. . . ."
Smith looked at him, startled. But he never had time to ask what the matter was. The lookout yelled. Wings rushed overhead. Guns chattered from the parapet. The attack was o
