Front matter (continued 7)

"Or tomorrow, or even yesterday—any convenient time will do," Lacy blandly assented. "You see, young man, MacDougall has been a mighty busy girl, and wedding preparations take time, too. Therefore, we have very reluctantly accepted her resignation."

"Especially, preparations take time when it's going to be such a wedding as the Patrol is going to stage," Haynes volunteered. "That was what I was starting to talk about when I was so rudely interrupted."

"Nix—not in seven thousand years!" Kinnison exploded. "Cancel that, right now. I won't stand for it. I'll not—"

"Close the pan, young fellow," the admiral advised him, firmly. "Bridegrooms are to be seen—just barely visible—but not heard, ever. A wedding is where the girls really strut their stuff. How about it, you gorgeous young menace to civilization?"

"I'll say so!" she exclaimed in high animation. "I'd just love it, admiral—" She broke off, aghast. Her face fell. "No, I didn't mean that, really. Kim's right. Thanks a million, just the same, but—"

"But nothing!" Haynes broke in. "I know what's the matter. Don't try to fib to an old campaigner, and don't be silly. I said the Patrol was throwing this wedding—all of it. All you have to do is to participate in the action. Got any money, Kinnison? On you, I mean."

"No," in surprise. "What would I be doing with money?"

"Here's ten thousand credits—Patrol funds. Take it and—"

"He will not!" the nurse stormed. "No! You can't, Admiral Haynes, really. Why, a bride has got to buy her own clothes!"

"She's right, Haynes," Lacy announced. The admiral stared at him in wrathful astonishment, and even the girl seemed disappointed at her easy victory. "But listen to this: As surgeon general, et cetera, in recognition of the unselfish services, et cetera, unflinching bravery under fire, performance beyond and above requirements or reasonable expectations, et cetera, et cetera, Sector Chief Nurse Clarrissa MacDougall, upon the occasion of her separation from the service, is hereby granted a bonus of ten thousand credits. That goes on the record as of hour twelve today. Now, you red-headed young spitfire, if you refuse to accept that bonus, I'll cancel your resignation and put you back to work! What do you say to that?"

"I say QX, Dr. Lacy. Thanks a million, both of you—you're perfect darlings and I love all two of you!" The gaspingly happy girl kissed them both, then turned to her betrothed.

"Let's go and walk about ten miles, shall we, Kim? I've got to do something or I'll explode all over the place!"

And the tall Lensman—no longer unattached—and the radiant nurse swung down the hall.

Side by side, in step, heads up, laughing; a beginning symbolical indeed of the life which they were to live together.

THE END.