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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #61863 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61863)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of 4 1/2 B, Eros, by Malcolm Jameson
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll
-have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using
-this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: 4 1/2 B, Eros
-
-Author: Malcolm Jameson
-
-Release Date: April 18, 2020 [EBook #61863]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 4 1/2 B, EROS ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- 4-1/2B, EROS
-
- By MALCOLM JAMESON
-
- "4-1/2B, Eros."... A strange code, but
- grizzled space-trader Karns used it to
- break the perilous Mercury-Venus Jinx.
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Planet Stories Spring 1941.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-"Makee chop chop. Kwei! Kwei!"
-
-The two Venusian coolies squatted down between the shafts and with one
-quick motion elevated the sedan chair to shoulder height. Then they
-started off in a lazy run through the torrential downpour, splashing
-mud right and left as their sturdy yellow legs struck into the watery
-lane of muck that passes for a road in Venusberg. Captain Hank Karns,
-the Lone Trader, sank back in his seat and watched idly with mild blue
-eyes as first one grass hut and then another appeared momentarily
-through rifts of rain. There would be time enough to worry about Cappy
-Wilkerson's plight when he reached the administration building and
-found out more about the charges against him. No doubt it was just
-another shakedown, the effort of some minor official to pry loose a
-little more than the customary cumshaw.
-
-Captain Karns had berthed his own old trading tub not an hour earlier
-and as he registered the arrival of his _Swapper_ he noted that under
-the date of three days before there was the entry: "_Wanderer_, Captain
-Wilkerson, en route Mercury to Luna." After it was the notation in red:
-"Detained by order Collector of the Port; captain in custody."
-
-Hank Karns thoughtfully pawed his long white beard. Cappy Wilkerson was
-a careful and upright man and a lifelong friend; what manner of charge
-could they have trumped up against him? That they were trumped up he
-took for granted, for the local government of autonomous Venus was
-notoriously corrupt and always had been. The Venusians themselves were
-the descendants of coolies brought centuries before from tropical Asia.
-They took little or no interest in government. Politics had, therefore,
-fallen into the hands of white adventurers, most of whom lived on Venus
-for the very good reason they were not wanted elsewhere. The Central
-Council of the loose Interplanetary Federation seldom interfered with
-them unless for acts so flagrant as to affect the Federation as a whole.
-
-The old space merchant left his chair at the courtroom and squeezed
-through the crowd at the back just in time to hear the whack, whack,
-whack of the gavel marking the end of the trial. Standing defiantly
-in the prisoner's box was Cappy Wilkerson, his eyes flashing and his
-iron-gray mane thrown back. He looked like an indignant old lion
-brought to bay by a pack of jackals. The judge, a young man with a
-monocle and a stiff black pompadour, was dressed in a smart military
-uniform which made him appear anything but judicial. He was biting out
-his words as if what he was saying was inspired by personal venom.
-
-"I have heard all you have had to say, including your filthy
-imputations as to the integrity of this court. Your guilt is so
-apparent that we need not trouble even to preserve the record of your
-silly and malicious allegations...."
-
-Here the judge contemptuously tossed a sheaf of papers into a
-wastebasket.
-
-"Therefore, bearing in mind not only your guilt but your contumacious
-conduct before me, I sentence you to five years at hard labor in such a
-one of our prison camps as the Director of Welfare and Beneficence may
-select.
-
-"It is further directed that your ship, together with its illicit
-contents, be confiscated and sold at public auction in order to defray
-the cost of these proceedings. Marshal! Take him away."
-
-Hank Karns was on his feet at once, elbowing and pushing his way
-forward through the departing throng of curiosity-seekers. His voice
-was shrill with indignation.
-
-"Hey, you can't do that!" he yelled. Officials closed in on him at
-once, and the judge's face grew red with anger. "This is a court of
-law," he said, "and the decisions of the presiding judge are final. Now
-get out before I haul you up for contempt."
-
-"Tarnation damn!" muttered Hank Karns as he turned and left the
-building. This was no ordinary shakedown. This called for action, and
-quick action, for it was unthinkable that his buddy should be carted
-off to the insect-infested, fever-ridden, infamous Great Swamp of
-Venus. White men lived but a few months there; a year, let alone five
-years, was as good as life.
-
-A bulletin caught his eye, and as he read it he gasped. The paste
-that fastened it to the board was still wet, but the paper bore
-characteristics of printed type. It must have been prepared at least a
-day ago. It read:
-
- COLLECTOR'S SALE
-
- One confiscated tube ship, the _Wanderer_, complete with fittings.
- The cargo of the same consisting of miscellaneous trade goods.
- Saturday. Inquire at Collector's Office for details.
-
-"Phew!" gasped Hank Karns. "_That_ was quick work. And planned." He
-turned and made his way to the Collector's Office.
-
-The man at the front desk gaped at him woodenly.
-
-"S'already sold," he said indifferently, the third time Karns put his
-question.
-
-"But it says Saturday...."
-
-"Okay--it says Saturday. So what?"
-
-"B-but this is only Tuesday...."
-
-"We have a Saturday every week, dodo. Now trot along and annoy somebody
-else for a change. I have work to do."
-
-Hank Karns blinked. Why, Saturday was the day the _Wanderer_ docked.
-These Venusians were getting raw. They must have sold her that very day!
-
-"Who is that old man? Throw him out!"
-
-Karns turned slowly and viewed the new speaker. He was a big man,
-with piercing black eyes and a hawk nose, and heavily bearded--a
-strange sight for super-tropical Venus where men kept clean shaven
-for coolness. But the man turned abruptly away and entered an inner
-office, slamming the door behind him. Hank Karns' eyes followed him
-all the way--they were fixed on the back of the fellow's neck. There,
-oddly enough, just above the shoulder line, peeped a line of color
-demarcation. Above the line, which was made visible by the fact that
-its wearer had pulled open his collar for comfort, the skin was the
-normal pallor usually seen on Venus; below, it was a mottled chocolate
-color.
-
-"Didja hear what the collector said?" snarled the clerk. "Scram!"
-
-Without a word, Hank Karns turned and left the office. He passed
-through the thronged corridors almost in a daze. There was Cappy
-Wilkerson, gone to the Swamp, virtually condemned to death. There was
-his ship sold, even before the trial which was to condemn it. And
-everywhere there was high-handed insolence, seemingly inspired by this
-overbearing man with the duplex complexion. What did it mean? And the
-fact that he could not yet place those sharp eyes and that predatory
-nose, though somewhere, sometime, he had encountered them before,
-puzzled Hank Karns still more. Something stank in Venus.
-
- * * * * *
-
-An hour later he sat morosely in a tiny tavern he had long known,
-hidden up the blind alley known as Artemis Lane. For half a century it
-had been familiar to him as the hangout for his kind.
-
-"So you see how it is," the bartender was concluding. "At this rate
-there won't be any more. With all the old-timers dead or in the Swamp,
-how in hell can _I_ keep running. No sir, this joint is for sale--for
-what it'll bring. Drink up and have another."
-
-Captain Karns took the proffered drink from the grizzled tavern-keeper,
-but despite its cheering nature--for it was purest "comet-dew"--he took
-it glumly. Never in all his long and active life had he heard so much
-evil news at one sitting. Another of his old pals had come to grief,
-and all because he had touched at Mercury. Mercury, it appeared, was
-poison to all his tribe. The record was too consistent to be accounted
-for by coincidence. Coincidents do not occur in strings.
-
-"And what makes it stink all the worse," persisted the indignant
-bartender, bitterly, "not a damn finger is lifted to stop the flow of
-trilibaine. The town is lousy with it. Half these natives stay hopped
-up all the time."
-
-"I thought the Federals had cleaned that up ten years ago," commented
-Hank Karns.
-
-"It's back," was the laconic retort.
-
-Hank Karns said nothing. The fact that three of his buddies were
-languishing in the malarial swamps of Venus, continually subject to the
-indignities of brutal guards was uppermost in his mind. And besides
-that, two others--Bill Ellison and Jed Carter--had died on Mercury
-when their ships mysteriously blew up on the take-off. That, too, had
-an especial significance, for those two were the only members of the
-trader tribe who had any sort of reputation as fire-eaters. In their
-youth, of course, all of them had been bolder and more truculent, but
-as they gained in experience they learned that there is more to be
-gained by soft words than bluster. If Hank was to secure the release of
-his friends it must be by guile, the use of a cunning superior to that
-employed by their common enemies.
-
-_If_ he was to secure! There was no if about it. He must. For it was
-Bob Merrill and Ben Wilkerson who had once rescued him, Hank Karns,
-from an even more deadly situation. More than twenty years ago that
-had been, on far-off Io, and Hank Karns winced at the memory of it. On
-that occasion he had, through the machinations of the notorious Von
-Kleber gang, been convicted and sentenced as a pirate. Ten hateful
-and horror-filled days and nights he had spent in the mines of Sans
-Espérance, the Federal Penitentiary, digging radioactive ores. Two of
-his friendly competitors heard of it and pled for a new trial wherein
-it was shown that he had been sent up through perjured testimony to
-screen the trial of the real culprits. The wave of public opinion they
-started then did not subside until Von Kleber and his outlaws were put
-finally behind the bars.
-
-No, there was no choice. Cappy Wilkerson and Cappy Merrill must be
-released and Ellison and Carter avenged. How? That remained to be seen.
-
-"Wa-al," drawled Hank Karns, elaborately, now that his mind was made
-up, "I'll be seein' you. I'm taking a little trip into Mercury and
-back."
-
-The bartender shook his head ominously.
-
-"No fool like an old fool," he said, and he didn't laugh.
-
-In the rain-lock, or the vestibule outside the bar, Karns stopped. He
-felt inside the lining of his vest and after much fumbling produced a
-dog-eared memorandum book. He ran through the yellowed pages until he
-found one covered with cryptic entries. They appeared as if made long
-ago, but several interlineations in various colored inks showed that
-amendments had been made from time to time since the original writing
-of them.
-
-Halfway down was the group P2, and what followed had been
-twice changed. The line that stood in lieu of them read:
-"Vbg--wickerware--4-1/2B, Eros." Hank Karns read the line through
-two or three times, then snapped the book shut and replaced it in
-its hiding place. He carefully buckled up his slicker and jammed his
-sou'wester tight upon his head. Then he stepped forth into the steamy
-drizzle of Artemis Lane.
-
-He sloshed his way through mud and water until he came to the main
-drag. He turned to the right and splashed along until he came to the
-corner where Erosville Road turned off. He took the turn and plugged
-along for four blocks of its twisting, boggy length. A dozen steps
-farther on he lifted his eyes and peered from beneath dripping brows
-at the signs about. Across the street was what he sought--a sagging
-awning crudely painted with the legend; "An Shirgar--Dealer in Native
-Basketry." On the bedewed window below was another, "Hir Spak Anglass."
-
-Hank Karns stopped under the awning long enough to squish some of the
-water out of his shoes, then he entered. A swarthy, turbanned Venusian
-met him, rubbing his hands together obsequiously and bowing jerkily at
-every step.
-
-"Yiss, milord. Valcom to mizrable shop. Vat vishes milord?"
-
-"Wickerware," said Hank Karns, tartly, for him. "For export."
-
-"Ah," breathed the representative of An Shirgar. "Zhipluds, eh? You
-pay?" Captain Karns shook his head, and pointed to the private door at
-the back.
-
-"Ah, vickware. No pay. Maybe boss ut see, eh?"
-
-"Yep, trot him out," said Hank Karns, and began fingering the clever
-basketware of the Venutian hillmen. He knew it would be quite a while
-before the Earth-man came, if this was operated like the Callistan
-branch had been, twenty years before. After a time, without quite
-knowing how he knew, he was aware that someone else was in the
-showroom, studying him from a distance.
-
-"Howdy," he said, turning around. "I kinda wanted to finance a deal
-that's too big for me to swing--is this the place?"
-
-"Might be," said the man non-committally. He was a typical Terrestrian
-business man, not much over thirty, baldish, and plainly not given to
-foolishness. "I don't touch anything as a rule unless I see a profit in
-it. And no chance of loss. What is your collateral?"
-
-Hank Karns mentioned his ship. The man snorted, and started to turn
-away. "You're wasting time."
-
-"I got a ring, too. It's a--well--sorta heirloom."
-
-The man came back. He was still not interested, but he took the ring
-Karns offered him and weighed it in his hand. Then he applied a loup to
-his eye and examined it closely.
-
-"You've hocked this before?"
-
-"Yes," chuckled Hank Karns. "And got it back, too."
-
-"Hmmm," said the man. "It looks genuine. What do you want?"
-
-"I--uh--am dropping into Mercury to do a little trading. When I get
-back I might want to buy a chair or so--mebbe a houseful of stuff--and
-just wanted to be sure my credit was good."
-
-"You speak in riddles, my friend," said the man with a curious, tight
-little smile. He was tossing the ring thoughtfully all the while.
-
-"I'm only a lone trader," said Hank Karns, wistfully, "and don't know
-no better. Supposing you keep the ring while I'm gone--to appraise it,
-so to speak. All I want to know is who to call for when I get back.
-_If_ I get back."
-
-The man pocketed the ring.
-
-"Where will the call come from?"
-
-"I dunno. Space, mebbe. Jail, mebbe."
-
-"My radio call is care assistant dockmaster, Venusberg sky-yard.
-Mention berth twenty-three somehow. As to the jail angle, I do not as a
-general thing do business with people in jail. In that event, I might
-send you a lawyer, in consideration of this ring. Tell Rashab, the
-night turn-key--you'll know him by the double scar on his chin--that
-you want to see Mr. Brown. I can't guarantee he'll go, but if he does,
-bear in mind he's a very cagy fellow and that Venusberg jail is studded
-with dictaphones and scanners. If what you have in mind smacks at all
-of illegality, it's likely he'll walk out on you."
-
-"Yep," snapped Hank Karns, beginning to shut the clasps on his slicker,
-"I'll remember. Only I don't think it'll be a lawyer I'll need. If the
-joint is lousy with spy-machines, what I'll want is an old friend--a
-man of my type."
-
-The man, whatever his name was, for he had still not given it, laughed
-outright for the first time. He slapped the Lone Trader on the back.
-
-"Men of your type, you old humbug, are extinct as the horse."
-
-Hank Karns looked up to laugh back at him, but he was gone. In his
-place stood the turbanned Venutian, still doing washing motions with
-his hands.
-
-"Milord no like vickvare? Milord go now?"
-
-"My Lord, yes. I go now."
-
-Karns jammed on his sou'wester, took a deep breath, and pushed open
-the door. A half hour later he was making ready for the take-off for
-Mercury. It was a shot in the dark, but it was a chance he had to take.
-
-"To hell with that," thought Hank Karns. Then briskly to the boy he
-had brought with him this trip as a general utility man, "Hey, Billy,
-look alive! Bear a hand with getting them there rakes stowed!"
-
- * * * * *
-
-"So that's Mercury," exclaimed Billy Hatch, four days later, as
-he stared goggle-eyed into the visiplate. This was his first
-interplanetary trip.
-
-"Yep," said Karns, "That's her, the doggonedest planet barrin' none in
-the whole dad-frazzled system. After you've been here you can tell 'em
-you've seen wind blow, and I mean blow. That's what them rakes is for.
-To get around you lie down on your belly and pull yourself along by
-them. It's a helluva place. The sun on your back'd fry you, 'cepting
-there's always a ice-cold hurricane cooling you off."
-
-"How can that be, cap'n?"
-
-"Convection's the ten-sol word for it. It's cause she's sizzling hot
-on one side and colder'n the underside of a iceberg on t'other. The
-wind goes straight up over the desert and comes straight down over
-the back side glaciers. Then it scoots for the desert again--and how!
-Nobody could live an hour in any part of the place if it warn't for
-the temp'rate strip, and that's cockeyed enough. You gotta steady,
-hundred-two-hundred-mile wind going straight into the sun, for that's
-right down to the horizon. In the lee of a house you burn up, in the
-shade of it you'd freeze solid in five minutes. And the houses have to
-be stone and streamlined."
-
-Hank Karns kept a watchful eye on the terrain coming up to meet them.
-Mooring a ship in that wind required the utmost art.
-
-"As I told you, itsa helluva place. Nuthing grows there but a sort of
-grass and some moss. The only animals is varmints, like the cangrela
-and the trocklebeck. It's cangrela claws and trocklebeck hides we trade
-for."
-
-Billy Hatch listened, wide-eyed. This was romance.
-
-"The trocklebeck is a critter something on the order of a armadillo,
-only it's got horns and big claws to hang onto the ground. It grazes,
-with its head allus into the wind. The cangrela is built along
-the lines of a crab and has claws, too. It crawls up behind the
-trocklebeck and kills 'em while they're feeding. Trocklebeck scales and
-cangrela claws are both harder'n hell. They use 'em in machinery."
-
-"Oh," said Billy Hatch.
-
-"But you better git forrard there and tend to them grapples, 'cause
-a-gitting hold of the ground here is ticklish business. Ef we miss it's
-just too bad. We'll roll over and over for miles and miles, like as
-not."
-
-Hank Karns said no more for a time. As a matter of fact, he was far
-from ready to land. He had deliberately come up on the wrong side
-of the planet for making the landing at Sam Atkins' little trading
-store. He wanted to give it a general bird's-eye view. It was in a
-valley scooped out by the wind that he saw the first sign of a major
-alteration. Behind a huge artificial wind-break lay a group of new
-buildings, and one of them was dome-topped with a squat chimney. A
-matter of ten miles farther away was another new house and a small
-warehouse behind it. Just over the next low ridge lay Atkins' place.
-
-"Standby," warned Hank Karns, as he brought the ship's nose into the
-hurricane and began losing altitude. "Don't let go 'til I tell you--and
-that'll be when we're practically down."
-
-Just as the keel kissed the ground, Karns gave the signal and the
-anchors fell. At the same instant he cut his rockets and the ship began
-falling away to leeward, dragging her anchors behind. In a moment they
-grabbed, pulled loose and grabbed again. That time they held. Karns
-released a long pent-up sigh. It was a perfect landing. Sam Atkins'
-house lay but a bare hundred yards on the quarter.
-
-There was still the business of shooting a wire over the trading post
-and making it fast at both ends, Atkins coming out to do his share.
-Then Captain Karns slid down the wire to the shack and allowed himself
-to be hauled in by the trading post keeper.
-
-"I'm glad to see you, Cap'n, and sorry at the same time," was his
-greeting from Sam Atkins. Atkins was a grumpy sort and a self-made
-hermit. He seemed to enjoy the solitude of windswept Mercury and the
-tedious, strenuous work of snaring cangrelas.
-
-"How come sorry, Sam?" asked Hank Karns, as innocently as if he had
-never visited Venus.
-
-Atkins looked mournfully at him and jerked a thumb eastward.
-
-"I've got neighbors--bad ones. Whatever you do, don't go over there.
-They'll trick you somehow. They don't want outsiders coming here,
-they've got a ship of their own that makes a trip every week or so."
-
-Hank Karns raised his eyebrows.
-
-"Trocklebecks must be breeding faster'n they used to," he observed.
-"Mercury never produced enough to justify more than two trips a year,
-if that."
-
-"Trocklebecks," stated Atkins, "are practically extinct. And the
-cangrelas are starving. I doubt if I could scare up four cases of prime
-claws to save my soul. It's _pagras_ that's doing it. The place is
-crawling with them. They bite the trockelbecks and they curl up and
-die."
-
-"Mmm," commented Hank Karns. He remembered those serpents well. They
-were originally a Venusian beast--a variety of dragon, and extremely
-venomous. They were really legged snakes, having thirty-six pairs
-of taloned legs and crab-like claws near the head, but the body was
-slender, rarely exceeding a yard in girth, for all their thirty-foot
-lengths.
-
-"I'm closing up shop here," said the gloomy Atkins next. "You can take
-the pick of what I own if you'll set me down at the next stop you make."
-
-"Now you just keep your shirt on, Sam Atkins," replied Hank Karns, "I'm
-not a-doing anything of the damn kind. I'm going over and have a talk
-with those gents in the next valley...."
-
-Sam Atkins glared at him.
-
-"No fool like an old fool," he remarked, hopelessly.
-
-Hank Karns chuckled.
-
-"Seems folks are agreed pretty well about me. But let's eat, so I can
-get along my way."
-
-Unmooring and getting in the anchors was a troublesome job with only
-a green boy for a helper, but Hank Karns managed it. At that it was a
-much easier maneuver to move the ship that mile over the ridge than to
-try to crawl it in the teeth of a permanent typhoon. Moreover, if there
-was cargo to take aboard--and Hank Karns felt sure there would be--the
-ship would have to be moved anyhow. So he took off, circumnavigated the
-planet, and came up again, this time to the little office building and
-warehouse next to Atkins' shack. He took good care not to go near the
-other group of buildings.
-
-As he descended, casting about for a good spot to fling out his
-grapnels he kept a sharp eye out for signs of life about the buildings.
-All he saw was a couple of bronzed men, both bald as billiard balls,
-working over some object in the lee of the warehouse. Upon sighting the
-descending spaceship one went inside the warehouse and the other caught
-hold of the guide-wire and let himself be blown down to what appeared
-to be the office building. The man had on a heavily quilted suit of
-gray material--quilted so that if he lost his hold and was blown away,
-he would not bruise himself to death along the ground.
-
-On the fourth try, Hank Karns managed to ground his ship not far from
-the office door. This time he landed to leeward and had to make his way
-up-wind by crawling, assisted by a Mercurian "staff," or one of the
-rakes among his trade goods. As he crawled, he observed he was being
-watched from a loophole beside the door. But as he drew himself erect,
-the door opened and a man came out to greet him.
-
-"Hello, Captain," said the man, cordially, "we're very glad to see you.
-Come in and rest yourself." The man, Karns observed, was dressed in a
-heavily quilted suit and was breathing heavily. But he had a full head
-of hair and a luxuriant mustache.
-
-"Howdy, yourself," returned the Lone Trader. "Phew! It's shore dusty
-hereabouts--I've heard of the place but I never seen it. The far
-Trojans is my bailiwick and the asteroids in that corner...."
-
-"Really?" said the man, helping his visitor through the door. The
-office was a single room, and no one else was in it. There was a bottle
-of voilet-hued liquor on the table and two glasses. "Have a drink? This
-is home brew--our Mercurian version of comet-dew--made from flowers
-that grow under the glacier lips."
-
-"Don't care ef I do," remarked Karns, and sat down in the seat
-indicated. "As I was saying, I thought I'd look in on this place,
-seeing as how I had to make the perihelion hop home. Have to git home
-to see my oldest grandchild married."
-
-"Wouldn't be interested in a bit of cargo, would you?" asked the man.
-"Our own ship is overdue, and I have some freight for Venus."
-
-"I'm allus interested in a bit of cargo," said Karns, "but this trip I
-can't stop by Venus--time's too short."
-
-"Oh, well," said his host, indifferently, "it doesn't matter about
-that. I was thinking of shipping some boxes of claws and hides to
-our agent at Venusberg for sale there. We are a new company and have
-no outlets on Terra yet, unless you wanted to speculate on your own
-account and buy them outright."
-
-"Speculation's my business," said Hank Karns, serene and bland. And
-added, with just a touch of foxiness, "_ef_ the buying price is right."
-
-"Oh, we won't quarrel about that," laughed the man. "The hides are
-a by-product with us--this is a pharmaceutical outfit. We make a
-preparation from the hormones of these beasts. You can have the horns
-at almost any price."
-
-They spent the better part of an hour in good natured haggling, the
-child-like old man raising first one trivial objection after another to
-win small advantages--chiefly in the matter of valuation of the various
-items of trade goods he had to offer. None of the lone traders ever
-dealt in cash. The _Swapper_ was most appropriately named.
-
-At last they shook on the bargain--and a bargain it most obviously was
-from the trader's point of view. Mr. Raoul Dement, or so the company
-man styled himself, presented the visiting captain two flasks of the
-violet liquor after the old custom of the trade.
-
-"Nice stuff," observed Hank Karns, licking his lip. "The best I ever."
-
-"There's twelve cases of it in the warehouse," said Dement, with a
-wink. "Now, if you were the smuggling sort, there would be a nice
-profit for you. But, of course...."
-
-"Hell," exploded Hank Karns, "running comet-dew's no sin. Wisht I had a
-decimo for every gallon I've hauled. Once in a coon's age I get stuck
-with a little fine, but shucks--the customer'll allus pay that for
-you."
-
-There followed more dickering, but the upshot of it was that Hank Karns
-signed up for everything that had been offered him.
-
-"Bon voyage," said Mr. Dement. "If you ever pass this way again, drop
-in and visit."
-
-"Sure will," said Hank Karns, looking his man in the eye. He was
-interested in his host's forehead. About an inch from the right temple
-there was a slight depression--the ineradicable scar of an old skull
-injury.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Mercury was still a big disk behind when the _Swapper_ straightened out
-on her earthward trajectory.
-
-"Step alive there, Billy, we got lots to do."
-
-All the blandness, all the gullibility and child-like faith were gone
-from Hank Karns' face now. He looked much more like work-ridden gnome
-than an emaciated Santa Claus. For they had unpacked every case and
-strewn its contents on the deck, looking for contraband of a more
-serious nature than the harmless comet-dew. But no case contained
-anything except what the invoice declared. Hank left the job of
-repacking to the boy and went about a minute search of the ship itself.
-
-In that he was not a moment too soon. Behind the control board--hidden
-under the vine-like mass of electric leads--were two thermobombs. Their
-detonating coils were already hot. The control board was divided into
-three panels, each controlling an opposite pair of the six tubes which
-were arranged hexagonally about the stern. Two of the panels were about
-to be ruined by fire.
-
-Hank Karns' first impulse was to snatch the bombs loose and let them
-burn out harmlessly on the deck, but suddenly he checked it. Instead he
-withdrew his hand and stuck his blistered fingers in his mouth. Then he
-shouted a warning to Billy Hatch.
-
-"Hey! Stand by for a blast. Bring an extinguisher, quick!"
-
-The boy ran up, but nothing happened for several minutes. Then the two
-boards flashed fire. They put the fire out, but the damage was done.
-The _Swapper_ was not nearly up to acceleration. She could never get to
-Earth at that velocity. She would have to limp into Venus on her two
-remaining tubes and have yard electricians renew her wiring.
-
-"Pretty neat," said Hank Karns, admiringly, contemplating his ruined
-controls.
-
-"I did the best I could, Cap'n," said Billy, modestly, thinking the
-compliment was meant for him.
-
-"You did all right, son," said the skipper. "Supposing you turn in now.
-I'll do what's left."
-
-Hank Karns did not at once change course for Venus. He was still
-unsatisfied that he knew all he should know about his ship and its
-seemingly innocuous cargo. It was too obvious to miss that Dement had
-ordered the bombs planted to ensure the _Swapper's_ going into Venus.
-It was an easy guess that the suggestion to take liquor on board was a
-device to ensure the ship's arrest and the confiscation that was sure
-to follow, Venusian courts being what they were. But to Hank Karns'
-suspicious mind there was much more to it than that. In the first
-place, he could have obviated both. He could have snatched the bombs
-before they exploded, and he could yet jettison the liquor. Moreover,
-if the mere elimination of all visitors to Mercury was what they
-were after, those bombs could just as well have been of feroxite and
-designed to destroy the ship entirely, as was done in the case of the
-openly hostile Merrill and Carter. No, the master plot required the
-_Swapper_ to go into Venus and be done away with there. Why? He thought
-that over.
-
-Suddenly he arose and unlocked his little safe. From its lead container
-he withdrew a small pellet of radium and set up his fluoroscope.
-Then he dragged out one of the trockelbeck hides. He searched it
-systematically from horn to stubby tail, from the scaly back to the
-claws of the feet. Then he put his fluoroscope away. Grinning into his
-beard, he went aft and got a pair of pliers, a hammer and a cold chisel.
-
-One of the horns came away as he screwed it off. He knew already
-from its fluorescence that it was hollowed out and filled with some
-substance, but he wanted to make sure. He shook the pale green powder
-inside out into his palm and sniffed it. Yes, that was it. There was
-the unmistakable odor of crushed cherries and the sickish sweetness
-of the hashish of the skies--trilibaine! Ah, now he was getting
-somewhere. And as he split a few back scales at random he found that
-each had a few grams of the insidious drug within it. One such hide
-would supply a retail peddler for many months, each scale a separate
-delivery.
-
-He delayed no longer. He shifted his course toward Venus and at the
-same time sat down to his radio key. He sent:
-
-"URGENT: Venusberg Sky Yard. Attention assistant dockmaster. Four
-tubes disabled account switchboard fire. Please reserve for me berth
-twenty-three. Litigation in prospect. Can you recommend lawyer?
-(signed) Hank Karns, captain, TS Swapper."
-
-"Well," he said to himself as he carefully swept up the tell-tale green
-dust from the deck and added it to the bundle of broken scales and
-neatly bored and threaded horns preparatory to firing it all through
-the garbage tube into his wake, "I've shot my wad. Now let's see how
-smart Mr. Brown turns out to be."
-
- * * * * *
-
-He learned very soon that the thermobombs were but an added precaution.
-He had not been waiting more than a couple hours when his loudspeaker
-began to buzz. He glanced at it in surprise, as he was still a long way
-from Venus. The message began coming through, harsh and peremptory,
-"Lay to, _Swapper_, to receive a boarding party. Lay to, or take the
-consequences. Sky-guard calling. Lay to!"
-
-Hank Karns cut his rockets and went to the airlock to await the arrival
-of the cruiser. It was not long in coming.
-
-Two smartly uniformed young officers sprang in.
-
-"Let's see your manifest," ordered one, curtly, while the other headed
-for the hold. In a moment the second came back with two flasks of the
-pale violet comet-dew.
-
-"The old boy is lousy with the stuff," he reported to the other. "Cases
-and cases of it."
-
-"Yes," said the first, "and not a damn word about it in the manifest.
-This makes the second one of these old coots we've hauled up this
-month--what do you say, shall we call this one conspiracy?"
-
-"Why not?" countered the other.
-
-Karns said nothing beyond the usual blustering protests that would be
-expected of him. Then he lapsed into silence as the two took over
-after ordering their own vessel to proceed.
-
-They did not go to the commercial sky-yard, but to the official one.
-Other officers met them, and Hank Karns was led straight away to jail.
-He protested every step of the way, demanding to be taken before the
-Terrestrial resident commissioner, or to be booked in the usual way.
-Both those demands were refused, whereupon he asked for a lawyer.
-
-"Don't kid yourself, old man," said one of his guards. "You're in Venus
-now. Here you are."
-
-[Illustration: Ray-gun levelled, the guard shoved Hank stumblingly
-forward. He staggered and nearly fell, striking his head against the
-barred window. Outside he could see the form of a spaceship. But it was
-not the _Swapper_. The guard laughed and swaggered out.]
-
-There he was. There was no question about that. The barred door slammed
-behind his departing escort with an air of utter finality.
-
-"Hi-ya, pop!" screamed some hoodlum down the corridor. "Whatcha in for?"
-
-After that nothing happened. Hank Karns looked about him at his cramped
-cell and settled down to make the best of it. It would be tiresome,
-locked up alone this way, but in a day or so perhaps the mysterious Mr.
-Brown would put in his appearance.
-
-The next day came, but no Mr. Brown. However, early in the morning
-another visitor came in his place. Karns heard footsteps approaching
-and the jangle of keys. His door was flung open and a tall stranger
-stepped in. The man was quite old and clad in the blue uniform, faded
-and patched, of a space skipper. He was obviously a lone trader, but
-if he was, he was the only one in the universe that Hank Karns did not
-know. For this man, with his beetling gray eyebrows and hard steely
-eyes beneath, he had never laid eyes on before.
-
-"Two minutes, no more," warned the guard, and stood back in the
-corridor where he could both see and hear.
-
-"Howdy Hank," said the newcomer. "Danged if it ain't gitting so that
-Tom Bagley spends half his time bailing you out or paying fines. Why,
-I'd hardly landed here but what I heard you'd been slung into the
-calaboose again, and I says to myself, says I...."
-
-"Yeah, Tom, I know," said Hank Karns, penitently, trying not to look
-at the eavesdropping guard. Inwardly he was seething with doubt and
-curiosity. Could it be that this was some minion of the collector
-trying to trick him, or was he acting for Mr. Brown? He remembered
-telling the fellow in the wickerware place that what he really needed
-was a man of his own type. Maybe they had found one. At any rate, he
-chose to pretend he knew him.
-
-"Anyhow," went on the stranger, "I looked up a feller named Brown that
-I know here and asked him what to do. He said things looked pretty
-black and his advice was to plead guilty and say nothing. Might get
-off with a fine or something. And that he had a little money of yours.
-He got me this pass, but said he couldn't work it twice. Now tell me,
-Hank, what do you want me to do? I gotta get out of here for Mercury in
-a day or so."
-
-Hank Karns looked at the man steadily for a moment. He was on the
-spot. The man was evidently from Brown, but he knew neither of them
-personally. But worse, the guard was listening to every word, and there
-were doubtless dictaphones as well. But the two minutes were running
-out and there would not be a second visit.
-
-"I'll tell you, Tom, there isn't but one thing you can do. I'll have
-to take my medicine, I guess, but I hate like everything to lose them
-trocklebeck hides and horns. The critters is dying off--poisoned by
-pagras. Them danged snakes are all over Mercury. You might not have
-money enough to buy 'em in, but sorta keep track of 'em, won't you?
-They're not worth much now, but they'll be _mighty_ valuable some day.
-There's a man here from Io that'll pay a good price for 'em, ef you can
-find him."
-
-"Time's up," snapped the guard, coming forward.
-
-"All right, you old scalawag," said the phony trader captain, jovially,
-"I'll do my best. But watch your step with that jedge. He's tough."
-
-"I know," said Hank Karns, despondently, and settled his face in his
-hands.
-
-The door slammed and the footsteps withdrew, ringing emptily down the
-metal passage.
-
-Dreary day followed dreary day. Time after time Karns heard footsteps
-ringing in the corridor, and as often he heard the rattle of keys as
-some door was opened and another unfortunate was ordered out to meet
-his doom--the sentence that was to change his state from slow dry rot
-to the swift wet rot of the Swamp. But it was never Karns' door.
-
-Then at last came the day when guards took him to the identical court
-where Wilkerson had been tried. The evidence was brief and to the
-point. He was apprehended trying to sneak into Venus when his clearance
-papers called for Terra as his destination. He had on board eight cases
-of illicit liquor. He had no acceptable explanation. Guilty. Two years
-in the Swamp and the loss of his ship was the sentence. Then they took
-him back to his cell to await the next caravan to the penal camps.
-
-The second stretch of waiting was harder to take than the first, for
-he had placed the enigmatic collector now in his memory. The man was
-Von Kleber, thought to have died many years ago in the uranium mines
-of Sans Espérance. Karns knew him to be a convict from the fact that
-he had grafted new skin on his face and head so that the burns and
-baldness caused by radioactivity would not show. But that he was the
-notorious Von Kleber himself had not occurred to him. And with that
-recognition came the other. Raoul Dement was the man known as Frenchy
-the Hop, vice-president of the Von Kleber ring. It was he who had
-operated the narcotic racket while the big boss turned his attention to
-such other lines as piracy, white-slaving and smuggling in general. If
-such men could flourish unchecked in the well-policed Jovian satellites
-for more than a decade, it was hopeless to expect to dislodge them from
-their place on corrupt and autonomous Venus.
-
-And so time dragged on and Hank Karns sat, awaiting the day when he
-would be taken away to the Swamp. He wondered apathetically whether he
-would be sent to the same camp where Wilkerson and Hildreth were. But
-at last there came a day when footsteps rang again in the corridors and
-he heard doors being opened and men taken away. Finally men stopped
-before his own cell and called him forth. Between two soldiers they
-marched him away.
-
-To his surprise they took him first to the street, where three sedan
-chairs were waiting. The guards very politely indicated that Karns was
-to get in the middle one and they took the others. Hank clambered in
-and they set off. Shortly they drew up before the courthouse.
-
-He was met inside by a tall, slender man of nearly his own age who wore
-the uniform of Chief Inspector of the Interplanetary F.B.I.
-
-"How are you, Captain?" he said cheerily. "Sorry you had such a long
-stay in jail, but we'll try to make that up to you. Come in here and
-let me show you something?"
-
-Hank Karns looked at the inspector in amazement. He was Frank Haynes,
-the man who had broken the Von Kleber case years before. There had been
-a time when they worked closely together on the information that Karns
-furnished when he was released from Sans Espérance. He said nothing in
-reply, though, as Haynes was leading the way into the courtroom. In the
-dock were two baldheaded prisoners--Von Kleber, erstwhile Collector
-of the Port, and Mr. Dement, manager of the Mercurian drug works. The
-judge was a new one--a judge who looked like a judge should look.
-
-"There they are, thanks to you," said Haynes, pointing. "Two as clever
-criminals as ever plagued the system. We've been a long time catching
-them. But their career is over now.
-
-"Our local operative, known as Brown to you, has been trying for months
-to locate the source of the trilobaine flood but without avail. The
-Venusian authorities blocked him at every turn but there was nothing
-we could do about that unless we could hang a Federal offense on
-them. It was you who did that for us. I am very glad I gave you that
-identification ring after our cleanup on Callisto and the list of
-the secret addresses of our agents. I felt then that you were a man
-of discretion and would not abuse its privileges and today I most
-certainly am more than justified. When I interviewed you in your
-cell...."
-
-"You!"
-
-Inspector Haynes grinned at Hank's surprise.
-
-"Pretty effective disguise, eh? Well, as I was about to say--you gave
-me all the tips that were needed. First of all, your mention of the
-scourge of pagras told me it was trilobaine you had aboard, for that is
-a distillation of pagra venom. That gave us jurisdiction. I attended
-the secret auction and tried to bid. Everything in the ship went for a
-song to Von Kleber's pals, but when I went to bid on the trocklebeck
-hides I ran into stiff opposition. They were not to be had at any
-price. So I stopped bidding.
-
-"Our operatives trailed those hides through five sets of owners before
-we came to the Collector himself. Early this morning we made our raid
-and took in all their supplies of drugs and twenty-five of their
-peddlers. Previously we had raided Mercury and those men came in about
-an hour ago. They had quite a thriving little business, and why we
-didn't think of their method of smuggling in the trilobaine before this
-I'll never know. We knew, of course, that it must be coming in the
-ships that they confiscated. That much we were sure of. But we couldn't
-prove a damn thing until we knew _how_. Thanks to you, the ring is
-busted now, and we can do something for those poor devils who were
-innocently duped into being carriers of the drug. Runners have already
-been sent to the Swamp to bring back your friends. And there you are.
-You'll find your old _Swapper_ in the Yard, completely overhauled and
-stocked to the gunwales with grade A trade goods."
-
-Hank Karns, trader, tugged at his grizzled beard and looked rather
-sheepishly at the floor.
-
-"Dag it all," he said "that's fine enough. But gosh, I sure hated to
-make a damfool of myself in front of everybody thataway."
-
-Inspector Haynes broke into laughter and crossed over and slapped him
-on the back.
-
-"You old liar. You loved it!"
-
-
-
-
-
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-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of 4 1/2 B, Eros, by Malcolm Jameson
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
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-have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using
-this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: 4 1/2 B, Eros
-
-Author: Malcolm Jameson
-
-Release Date: April 18, 2020 [EBook #61863]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 4 1/2 B, EROS ***
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-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
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-
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="351" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-<h1>4-1/2B, EROS</h1>
-
-<h2>By MALCOLM JAMESON</h2>
-
-<p>"4-1/2B, Eros."... A strange code, but<br />
-grizzled space-trader Karns used it to<br />
-break the perilous Mercury-Venus Jinx.</p>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br />
-Planet Stories Spring 1941.<br />
-Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br />
-the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>"Makee chop chop. Kwei! Kwei!"</p>
-
-<p>The two Venusian coolies squatted down between the shafts and with one
-quick motion elevated the sedan chair to shoulder height. Then they
-started off in a lazy run through the torrential downpour, splashing
-mud right and left as their sturdy yellow legs struck into the watery
-lane of muck that passes for a road in Venusberg. Captain Hank Karns,
-the Lone Trader, sank back in his seat and watched idly with mild blue
-eyes as first one grass hut and then another appeared momentarily
-through rifts of rain. There would be time enough to worry about Cappy
-Wilkerson's plight when he reached the administration building and
-found out more about the charges against him. No doubt it was just
-another shakedown, the effort of some minor official to pry loose a
-little more than the customary cumshaw.</p>
-
-<p>Captain Karns had berthed his own old trading tub not an hour earlier
-and as he registered the arrival of his <i>Swapper</i> he noted that under
-the date of three days before there was the entry: "<i>Wanderer</i>, Captain
-Wilkerson, en route Mercury to Luna." After it was the notation in red:
-"Detained by order Collector of the Port; captain in custody."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns thoughtfully pawed his long white beard. Cappy Wilkerson was
-a careful and upright man and a lifelong friend; what manner of charge
-could they have trumped up against him? That they were trumped up he
-took for granted, for the local government of autonomous Venus was
-notoriously corrupt and always had been. The Venusians themselves were
-the descendants of coolies brought centuries before from tropical Asia.
-They took little or no interest in government. Politics had, therefore,
-fallen into the hands of white adventurers, most of whom lived on Venus
-for the very good reason they were not wanted elsewhere. The Central
-Council of the loose Interplanetary Federation seldom interfered with
-them unless for acts so flagrant as to affect the Federation as a whole.</p>
-
-<p>The old space merchant left his chair at the courtroom and squeezed
-through the crowd at the back just in time to hear the whack, whack,
-whack of the gavel marking the end of the trial. Standing defiantly
-in the prisoner's box was Cappy Wilkerson, his eyes flashing and his
-iron-gray mane thrown back. He looked like an indignant old lion
-brought to bay by a pack of jackals. The judge, a young man with a
-monocle and a stiff black pompadour, was dressed in a smart military
-uniform which made him appear anything but judicial. He was biting out
-his words as if what he was saying was inspired by personal venom.</p>
-
-<p>"I have heard all you have had to say, including your filthy
-imputations as to the integrity of this court. Your guilt is so
-apparent that we need not trouble even to preserve the record of your
-silly and malicious allegations...."</p>
-
-<p>Here the judge contemptuously tossed a sheaf of papers into a
-wastebasket.</p>
-
-<p>"Therefore, bearing in mind not only your guilt but your contumacious
-conduct before me, I sentence you to five years at hard labor in such a
-one of our prison camps as the Director of Welfare and Beneficence may
-select.</p>
-
-<p>"It is further directed that your ship, together with its illicit
-contents, be confiscated and sold at public auction in order to defray
-the cost of these proceedings. Marshal! Take him away."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns was on his feet at once, elbowing and pushing his way
-forward through the departing throng of curiosity-seekers. His voice
-was shrill with indignation.</p>
-
-<p>"Hey, you can't do that!" he yelled. Officials closed in on him at
-once, and the judge's face grew red with anger. "This is a court of
-law," he said, "and the decisions of the presiding judge are final. Now
-get out before I haul you up for contempt."</p>
-
-<p>"Tarnation damn!" muttered Hank Karns as he turned and left the
-building. This was no ordinary shakedown. This called for action, and
-quick action, for it was unthinkable that his buddy should be carted
-off to the insect-infested, fever-ridden, infamous Great Swamp of
-Venus. White men lived but a few months there; a year, let alone five
-years, was as good as life.</p>
-
-<p>A bulletin caught his eye, and as he read it he gasped. The paste
-that fastened it to the board was still wet, but the paper bore
-characteristics of printed type. It must have been prepared at least a
-day ago. It read:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p class="ph1">COLLECTOR'S SALE</p>
-
-<p>One confiscated tube ship, the <i>Wanderer</i>, complete with fittings. The
-cargo of the same consisting of miscellaneous trade goods. Saturday.
-Inquire at Collector's Office for details.</p></div>
-
-<p>"Phew!" gasped Hank Karns. "<i>That</i> was quick work. And planned." He
-turned and made his way to the Collector's Office.</p>
-
-<p>The man at the front desk gaped at him woodenly.</p>
-
-<p>"S'already sold," he said indifferently, the third time Karns put his
-question.</p>
-
-<p>"But it says Saturday...."</p>
-
-<p>"Okay&mdash;it says Saturday. So what?"</p>
-
-<p>"B-but this is only Tuesday...."</p>
-
-<p>"We have a Saturday every week, dodo. Now trot along and annoy somebody
-else for a change. I have work to do."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns blinked. Why, Saturday was the day the <i>Wanderer</i> docked.
-These Venusians were getting raw. They must have sold her that very day!</p>
-
-<p>"Who is that old man? Throw him out!"</p>
-
-<p>Karns turned slowly and viewed the new speaker. He was a big man,
-with piercing black eyes and a hawk nose, and heavily bearded&mdash;a
-strange sight for super-tropical Venus where men kept clean shaven
-for coolness. But the man turned abruptly away and entered an inner
-office, slamming the door behind him. Hank Karns' eyes followed him
-all the way&mdash;they were fixed on the back of the fellow's neck. There,
-oddly enough, just above the shoulder line, peeped a line of color
-demarcation. Above the line, which was made visible by the fact that
-its wearer had pulled open his collar for comfort, the skin was the
-normal pallor usually seen on Venus; below, it was a mottled chocolate
-color.</p>
-
-<p>"Didja hear what the collector said?" snarled the clerk. "Scram!"</p>
-
-<p>Without a word, Hank Karns turned and left the office. He passed
-through the thronged corridors almost in a daze. There was Cappy
-Wilkerson, gone to the Swamp, virtually condemned to death. There was
-his ship sold, even before the trial which was to condemn it. And
-everywhere there was high-handed insolence, seemingly inspired by this
-overbearing man with the duplex complexion. What did it mean? And the
-fact that he could not yet place those sharp eyes and that predatory
-nose, though somewhere, sometime, he had encountered them before,
-puzzled Hank Karns still more. Something stank in Venus.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>An hour later he sat morosely in a tiny tavern he had long known,
-hidden up the blind alley known as Artemis Lane. For half a century it
-had been familiar to him as the hangout for his kind.</p>
-
-<p>"So you see how it is," the bartender was concluding. "At this rate
-there won't be any more. With all the old-timers dead or in the Swamp,
-how in hell can <i>I</i> keep running. No sir, this joint is for sale&mdash;for
-what it'll bring. Drink up and have another."</p>
-
-<p>Captain Karns took the proffered drink from the grizzled tavern-keeper,
-but despite its cheering nature&mdash;for it was purest "comet-dew"&mdash;he took
-it glumly. Never in all his long and active life had he heard so much
-evil news at one sitting. Another of his old pals had come to grief,
-and all because he had touched at Mercury. Mercury, it appeared, was
-poison to all his tribe. The record was too consistent to be accounted
-for by coincidence. Coincidents do not occur in strings.</p>
-
-<p>"And what makes it stink all the worse," persisted the indignant
-bartender, bitterly, "not a damn finger is lifted to stop the flow of
-trilibaine. The town is lousy with it. Half these natives stay hopped
-up all the time."</p>
-
-<p>"I thought the Federals had cleaned that up ten years ago," commented
-Hank Karns.</p>
-
-<p>"It's back," was the laconic retort.</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns said nothing. The fact that three of his buddies were
-languishing in the malarial swamps of Venus, continually subject to the
-indignities of brutal guards was uppermost in his mind. And besides
-that, two others&mdash;Bill Ellison and Jed Carter&mdash;had died on Mercury
-when their ships mysteriously blew up on the take-off. That, too, had
-an especial significance, for those two were the only members of the
-trader tribe who had any sort of reputation as fire-eaters. In their
-youth, of course, all of them had been bolder and more truculent, but
-as they gained in experience they learned that there is more to be
-gained by soft words than bluster. If Hank was to secure the release of
-his friends it must be by guile, the use of a cunning superior to that
-employed by their common enemies.</p>
-
-<p><i>If</i> he was to secure! There was no if about it. He must. For it was
-Bob Merrill and Ben Wilkerson who had once rescued him, Hank Karns,
-from an even more deadly situation. More than twenty years ago that
-had been, on far-off Io, and Hank Karns winced at the memory of it. On
-that occasion he had, through the machinations of the notorious Von
-Kleber gang, been convicted and sentenced as a pirate. Ten hateful
-and horror-filled days and nights he had spent in the mines of Sans
-Espérance, the Federal Penitentiary, digging radioactive ores. Two of
-his friendly competitors heard of it and pled for a new trial wherein
-it was shown that he had been sent up through perjured testimony to
-screen the trial of the real culprits. The wave of public opinion they
-started then did not subside until Von Kleber and his outlaws were put
-finally behind the bars.</p>
-
-<p>No, there was no choice. Cappy Wilkerson and Cappy Merrill must be
-released and Ellison and Carter avenged. How? That remained to be seen.</p>
-
-<p>"Wa-al," drawled Hank Karns, elaborately, now that his mind was made
-up, "I'll be seein' you. I'm taking a little trip into Mercury and
-back."</p>
-
-<p>The bartender shook his head ominously.</p>
-
-<p>"No fool like an old fool," he said, and he didn't laugh.</p>
-
-<p>In the rain-lock, or the vestibule outside the bar, Karns stopped. He
-felt inside the lining of his vest and after much fumbling produced a
-dog-eared memorandum book. He ran through the yellowed pages until he
-found one covered with cryptic entries. They appeared as if made long
-ago, but several interlineations in various colored inks showed that
-amendments had been made from time to time since the original writing
-of them.</p>
-
-<p>Halfway down was the group P2, and what followed had been
-twice changed. The line that stood in lieu of them read:
-"Vbg&mdash;wickerware&mdash;4-1/2B, Eros." Hank Karns read the line through
-two or three times, then snapped the book shut and replaced it in
-its hiding place. He carefully buckled up his slicker and jammed his
-sou'wester tight upon his head. Then he stepped forth into the steamy
-drizzle of Artemis Lane.</p>
-
-<p>He sloshed his way through mud and water until he came to the main
-drag. He turned to the right and splashed along until he came to the
-corner where Erosville Road turned off. He took the turn and plugged
-along for four blocks of its twisting, boggy length. A dozen steps
-farther on he lifted his eyes and peered from beneath dripping brows
-at the signs about. Across the street was what he sought&mdash;a sagging
-awning crudely painted with the legend; "An Shirgar&mdash;Dealer in Native
-Basketry." On the bedewed window below was another, "Hir Spak Anglass."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns stopped under the awning long enough to squish some of the
-water out of his shoes, then he entered. A swarthy, turbanned Venusian
-met him, rubbing his hands together obsequiously and bowing jerkily at
-every step.</p>
-
-<p>"Yiss, milord. Valcom to mizrable shop. Vat vishes milord?"</p>
-
-<p>"Wickerware," said Hank Karns, tartly, for him. "For export."</p>
-
-<p>"Ah," breathed the representative of An Shirgar. "Zhipluds, eh? You
-pay?" Captain Karns shook his head, and pointed to the private door at
-the back.</p>
-
-<p>"Ah, vickware. No pay. Maybe boss ut see, eh?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yep, trot him out," said Hank Karns, and began fingering the clever
-basketware of the Venutian hillmen. He knew it would be quite a while
-before the Earth-man came, if this was operated like the Callistan
-branch had been, twenty years before. After a time, without quite
-knowing how he knew, he was aware that someone else was in the
-showroom, studying him from a distance.</p>
-
-<p>"Howdy," he said, turning around. "I kinda wanted to finance a deal
-that's too big for me to swing&mdash;is this the place?"</p>
-
-<p>"Might be," said the man non-committally. He was a typical Terrestrian
-business man, not much over thirty, baldish, and plainly not given to
-foolishness. "I don't touch anything as a rule unless I see a profit in
-it. And no chance of loss. What is your collateral?"</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns mentioned his ship. The man snorted, and started to turn
-away. "You're wasting time."</p>
-
-<p>"I got a ring, too. It's a&mdash;well&mdash;sorta heirloom."</p>
-
-<p>The man came back. He was still not interested, but he took the ring
-Karns offered him and weighed it in his hand. Then he applied a loup to
-his eye and examined it closely.</p>
-
-<p>"You've hocked this before?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yes," chuckled Hank Karns. "And got it back, too."</p>
-
-<p>"Hmmm," said the man. "It looks genuine. What do you want?"</p>
-
-<p>"I&mdash;uh&mdash;am dropping into Mercury to do a little trading. When I get
-back I might want to buy a chair or so&mdash;mebbe a houseful of stuff&mdash;and
-just wanted to be sure my credit was good."</p>
-
-<p>"You speak in riddles, my friend," said the man with a curious, tight
-little smile. He was tossing the ring thoughtfully all the while.</p>
-
-<p>"I'm only a lone trader," said Hank Karns, wistfully, "and don't know
-no better. Supposing you keep the ring while I'm gone&mdash;to appraise it,
-so to speak. All I want to know is who to call for when I get back.
-<i>If</i> I get back."</p>
-
-<p>The man pocketed the ring.</p>
-
-<p>"Where will the call come from?"</p>
-
-<p>"I dunno. Space, mebbe. Jail, mebbe."</p>
-
-<p>"My radio call is care assistant dockmaster, Venusberg sky-yard.
-Mention berth twenty-three somehow. As to the jail angle, I do not as a
-general thing do business with people in jail. In that event, I might
-send you a lawyer, in consideration of this ring. Tell Rashab, the
-night turn-key&mdash;you'll know him by the double scar on his chin&mdash;that
-you want to see Mr. Brown. I can't guarantee he'll go, but if he does,
-bear in mind he's a very cagy fellow and that Venusberg jail is studded
-with dictaphones and scanners. If what you have in mind smacks at all
-of illegality, it's likely he'll walk out on you."</p>
-
-<p>"Yep," snapped Hank Karns, beginning to shut the clasps on his slicker,
-"I'll remember. Only I don't think it'll be a lawyer I'll need. If the
-joint is lousy with spy-machines, what I'll want is an old friend&mdash;a
-man of my type."</p>
-
-<p>The man, whatever his name was, for he had still not given it, laughed
-outright for the first time. He slapped the Lone Trader on the back.</p>
-
-<p>"Men of your type, you old humbug, are extinct as the horse."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns looked up to laugh back at him, but he was gone. In his
-place stood the turbanned Venutian, still doing washing motions with
-his hands.</p>
-
-<p>"Milord no like vickvare? Milord go now?"</p>
-
-<p>"My Lord, yes. I go now."</p>
-
-<p>Karns jammed on his sou'wester, took a deep breath, and pushed open
-the door. A half hour later he was making ready for the take-off for
-Mercury. It was a shot in the dark, but it was a chance he had to take.</p>
-
-<p>"To hell with that," thought Hank Karns. Then briskly to the boy he
-had brought with him this trip as a general utility man, "Hey, Billy,
-look alive! Bear a hand with getting them there rakes stowed!"</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>"So that's Mercury," exclaimed Billy Hatch, four days later, as
-he stared goggle-eyed into the visiplate. This was his first
-interplanetary trip.</p>
-
-<p>"Yep," said Karns, "That's her, the doggonedest planet barrin' none in
-the whole dad-frazzled system. After you've been here you can tell 'em
-you've seen wind blow, and I mean blow. That's what them rakes is for.
-To get around you lie down on your belly and pull yourself along by
-them. It's a helluva place. The sun on your back'd fry you, 'cepting
-there's always a ice-cold hurricane cooling you off."</p>
-
-<p>"How can that be, cap'n?"</p>
-
-<p>"Convection's the ten-sol word for it. It's cause she's sizzling hot
-on one side and colder'n the underside of a iceberg on t'other. The
-wind goes straight up over the desert and comes straight down over
-the back side glaciers. Then it scoots for the desert again&mdash;and how!
-Nobody could live an hour in any part of the place if it warn't for
-the temp'rate strip, and that's cockeyed enough. You gotta steady,
-hundred-two-hundred-mile wind going straight into the sun, for that's
-right down to the horizon. In the lee of a house you burn up, in the
-shade of it you'd freeze solid in five minutes. And the houses have to
-be stone and streamlined."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns kept a watchful eye on the terrain coming up to meet them.
-Mooring a ship in that wind required the utmost art.</p>
-
-<p>"As I told you, itsa helluva place. Nuthing grows there but a sort of
-grass and some moss. The only animals is varmints, like the cangrela
-and the trocklebeck. It's cangrela claws and trocklebeck hides we trade
-for."</p>
-
-<p>Billy Hatch listened, wide-eyed. This was romance.</p>
-
-<p>"The trocklebeck is a critter something on the order of a armadillo,
-only it's got horns and big claws to hang onto the ground. It grazes,
-with its head allus into the wind. The cangrela is built along
-the lines of a crab and has claws, too. It crawls up behind the
-trocklebeck and kills 'em while they're feeding. Trocklebeck scales and
-cangrela claws are both harder'n hell. They use 'em in machinery."</p>
-
-<p>"Oh," said Billy Hatch.</p>
-
-<p>"But you better git forrard there and tend to them grapples, 'cause
-a-gitting hold of the ground here is ticklish business. Ef we miss it's
-just too bad. We'll roll over and over for miles and miles, like as
-not."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns said no more for a time. As a matter of fact, he was far
-from ready to land. He had deliberately come up on the wrong side
-of the planet for making the landing at Sam Atkins' little trading
-store. He wanted to give it a general bird's-eye view. It was in a
-valley scooped out by the wind that he saw the first sign of a major
-alteration. Behind a huge artificial wind-break lay a group of new
-buildings, and one of them was dome-topped with a squat chimney. A
-matter of ten miles farther away was another new house and a small
-warehouse behind it. Just over the next low ridge lay Atkins' place.</p>
-
-<p>"Standby," warned Hank Karns, as he brought the ship's nose into the
-hurricane and began losing altitude. "Don't let go 'til I tell you&mdash;and
-that'll be when we're practically down."</p>
-
-<p>Just as the keel kissed the ground, Karns gave the signal and the
-anchors fell. At the same instant he cut his rockets and the ship began
-falling away to leeward, dragging her anchors behind. In a moment they
-grabbed, pulled loose and grabbed again. That time they held. Karns
-released a long pent-up sigh. It was a perfect landing. Sam Atkins'
-house lay but a bare hundred yards on the quarter.</p>
-
-<p>There was still the business of shooting a wire over the trading post
-and making it fast at both ends, Atkins coming out to do his share.
-Then Captain Karns slid down the wire to the shack and allowed himself
-to be hauled in by the trading post keeper.</p>
-
-<p>"I'm glad to see you, Cap'n, and sorry at the same time," was his
-greeting from Sam Atkins. Atkins was a grumpy sort and a self-made
-hermit. He seemed to enjoy the solitude of windswept Mercury and the
-tedious, strenuous work of snaring cangrelas.</p>
-
-<p>"How come sorry, Sam?" asked Hank Karns, as innocently as if he had
-never visited Venus.</p>
-
-<p>Atkins looked mournfully at him and jerked a thumb eastward.</p>
-
-<p>"I've got neighbors&mdash;bad ones. Whatever you do, don't go over there.
-They'll trick you somehow. They don't want outsiders coming here,
-they've got a ship of their own that makes a trip every week or so."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns raised his eyebrows.</p>
-
-<p>"Trocklebecks must be breeding faster'n they used to," he observed.
-"Mercury never produced enough to justify more than two trips a year,
-if that."</p>
-
-<p>"Trocklebecks," stated Atkins, "are practically extinct. And the
-cangrelas are starving. I doubt if I could scare up four cases of prime
-claws to save my soul. It's <i>pagras</i> that's doing it. The place is
-crawling with them. They bite the trockelbecks and they curl up and
-die."</p>
-
-<p>"Mmm," commented Hank Karns. He remembered those serpents well. They
-were originally a Venusian beast&mdash;a variety of dragon, and extremely
-venomous. They were really legged snakes, having thirty-six pairs
-of taloned legs and crab-like claws near the head, but the body was
-slender, rarely exceeding a yard in girth, for all their thirty-foot
-lengths.</p>
-
-<p>"I'm closing up shop here," said the gloomy Atkins next. "You can take
-the pick of what I own if you'll set me down at the next stop you make."</p>
-
-<p>"Now you just keep your shirt on, Sam Atkins," replied Hank Karns, "I'm
-not a-doing anything of the damn kind. I'm going over and have a talk
-with those gents in the next valley...."</p>
-
-<p>Sam Atkins glared at him.</p>
-
-<p>"No fool like an old fool," he remarked, hopelessly.</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns chuckled.</p>
-
-<p>"Seems folks are agreed pretty well about me. But let's eat, so I can
-get along my way."</p>
-
-<p>Unmooring and getting in the anchors was a troublesome job with only
-a green boy for a helper, but Hank Karns managed it. At that it was a
-much easier maneuver to move the ship that mile over the ridge than to
-try to crawl it in the teeth of a permanent typhoon. Moreover, if there
-was cargo to take aboard&mdash;and Hank Karns felt sure there would be&mdash;the
-ship would have to be moved anyhow. So he took off, circumnavigated the
-planet, and came up again, this time to the little office building and
-warehouse next to Atkins' shack. He took good care not to go near the
-other group of buildings.</p>
-
-<p>As he descended, casting about for a good spot to fling out his
-grapnels he kept a sharp eye out for signs of life about the buildings.
-All he saw was a couple of bronzed men, both bald as billiard balls,
-working over some object in the lee of the warehouse. Upon sighting the
-descending spaceship one went inside the warehouse and the other caught
-hold of the guide-wire and let himself be blown down to what appeared
-to be the office building. The man had on a heavily quilted suit of
-gray material&mdash;quilted so that if he lost his hold and was blown away,
-he would not bruise himself to death along the ground.</p>
-
-<p>On the fourth try, Hank Karns managed to ground his ship not far from
-the office door. This time he landed to leeward and had to make his way
-up-wind by crawling, assisted by a Mercurian "staff," or one of the
-rakes among his trade goods. As he crawled, he observed he was being
-watched from a loophole beside the door. But as he drew himself erect,
-the door opened and a man came out to greet him.</p>
-
-<p>"Hello, Captain," said the man, cordially, "we're very glad to see you.
-Come in and rest yourself." The man, Karns observed, was dressed in a
-heavily quilted suit and was breathing heavily. But he had a full head
-of hair and a luxuriant mustache.</p>
-
-<p>"Howdy, yourself," returned the Lone Trader. "Phew! It's shore dusty
-hereabouts&mdash;I've heard of the place but I never seen it. The far
-Trojans is my bailiwick and the asteroids in that corner...."</p>
-
-<p>"Really?" said the man, helping his visitor through the door. The
-office was a single room, and no one else was in it. There was a bottle
-of voilet-hued liquor on the table and two glasses. "Have a drink? This
-is home brew&mdash;our Mercurian version of comet-dew&mdash;made from flowers
-that grow under the glacier lips."</p>
-
-<p>"Don't care ef I do," remarked Karns, and sat down in the seat
-indicated. "As I was saying, I thought I'd look in on this place,
-seeing as how I had to make the perihelion hop home. Have to git home
-to see my oldest grandchild married."</p>
-
-<p>"Wouldn't be interested in a bit of cargo, would you?" asked the man.
-"Our own ship is overdue, and I have some freight for Venus."</p>
-
-<p>"I'm allus interested in a bit of cargo," said Karns, "but this trip I
-can't stop by Venus&mdash;time's too short."</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, well," said his host, indifferently, "it doesn't matter about
-that. I was thinking of shipping some boxes of claws and hides to
-our agent at Venusberg for sale there. We are a new company and have
-no outlets on Terra yet, unless you wanted to speculate on your own
-account and buy them outright."</p>
-
-<p>"Speculation's my business," said Hank Karns, serene and bland. And
-added, with just a touch of foxiness, "<i>ef</i> the buying price is right."</p>
-
-<p>"Oh, we won't quarrel about that," laughed the man. "The hides are
-a by-product with us&mdash;this is a pharmaceutical outfit. We make a
-preparation from the hormones of these beasts. You can have the horns
-at almost any price."</p>
-
-<p>They spent the better part of an hour in good natured haggling, the
-child-like old man raising first one trivial objection after another to
-win small advantages&mdash;chiefly in the matter of valuation of the various
-items of trade goods he had to offer. None of the lone traders ever
-dealt in cash. The <i>Swapper</i> was most appropriately named.</p>
-
-<p>At last they shook on the bargain&mdash;and a bargain it most obviously was
-from the trader's point of view. Mr. Raoul Dement, or so the company
-man styled himself, presented the visiting captain two flasks of the
-violet liquor after the old custom of the trade.</p>
-
-<p>"Nice stuff," observed Hank Karns, licking his lip. "The best I ever."</p>
-
-<p>"There's twelve cases of it in the warehouse," said Dement, with a
-wink. "Now, if you were the smuggling sort, there would be a nice
-profit for you. But, of course...."</p>
-
-<p>"Hell," exploded Hank Karns, "running comet-dew's no sin. Wisht I had a
-decimo for every gallon I've hauled. Once in a coon's age I get stuck
-with a little fine, but shucks&mdash;the customer'll allus pay that for
-you."</p>
-
-<p>There followed more dickering, but the upshot of it was that Hank Karns
-signed up for everything that had been offered him.</p>
-
-<p>"Bon voyage," said Mr. Dement. "If you ever pass this way again, drop
-in and visit."</p>
-
-<p>"Sure will," said Hank Karns, looking his man in the eye. He was
-interested in his host's forehead. About an inch from the right temple
-there was a slight depression&mdash;the ineradicable scar of an old skull
-injury.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Mercury was still a big disk behind when the <i>Swapper</i> straightened out
-on her earthward trajectory.</p>
-
-<p>"Step alive there, Billy, we got lots to do."</p>
-
-<p>All the blandness, all the gullibility and child-like faith were gone
-from Hank Karns' face now. He looked much more like work-ridden gnome
-than an emaciated Santa Claus. For they had unpacked every case and
-strewn its contents on the deck, looking for contraband of a more
-serious nature than the harmless comet-dew. But no case contained
-anything except what the invoice declared. Hank left the job of
-repacking to the boy and went about a minute search of the ship itself.</p>
-
-<p>In that he was not a moment too soon. Behind the control board&mdash;hidden
-under the vine-like mass of electric leads&mdash;were two thermobombs. Their
-detonating coils were already hot. The control board was divided into
-three panels, each controlling an opposite pair of the six tubes which
-were arranged hexagonally about the stern. Two of the panels were about
-to be ruined by fire.</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns' first impulse was to snatch the bombs loose and let them
-burn out harmlessly on the deck, but suddenly he checked it. Instead he
-withdrew his hand and stuck his blistered fingers in his mouth. Then he
-shouted a warning to Billy Hatch.</p>
-
-<p>"Hey! Stand by for a blast. Bring an extinguisher, quick!"</p>
-
-<p>The boy ran up, but nothing happened for several minutes. Then the two
-boards flashed fire. They put the fire out, but the damage was done.
-The <i>Swapper</i> was not nearly up to acceleration. She could never get to
-Earth at that velocity. She would have to limp into Venus on her two
-remaining tubes and have yard electricians renew her wiring.</p>
-
-<p>"Pretty neat," said Hank Karns, admiringly, contemplating his ruined
-controls.</p>
-
-<p>"I did the best I could, Cap'n," said Billy, modestly, thinking the
-compliment was meant for him.</p>
-
-<p>"You did all right, son," said the skipper. "Supposing you turn in now.
-I'll do what's left."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns did not at once change course for Venus. He was still
-unsatisfied that he knew all he should know about his ship and its
-seemingly innocuous cargo. It was too obvious to miss that Dement had
-ordered the bombs planted to ensure the <i>Swapper's</i> going into Venus.
-It was an easy guess that the suggestion to take liquor on board was a
-device to ensure the ship's arrest and the confiscation that was sure
-to follow, Venusian courts being what they were. But to Hank Karns'
-suspicious mind there was much more to it than that. In the first
-place, he could have obviated both. He could have snatched the bombs
-before they exploded, and he could yet jettison the liquor. Moreover,
-if the mere elimination of all visitors to Mercury was what they
-were after, those bombs could just as well have been of feroxite and
-designed to destroy the ship entirely, as was done in the case of the
-openly hostile Merrill and Carter. No, the master plot required the
-<i>Swapper</i> to go into Venus and be done away with there. Why? He thought
-that over.</p>
-
-<p>Suddenly he arose and unlocked his little safe. From its lead container
-he withdrew a small pellet of radium and set up his fluoroscope.
-Then he dragged out one of the trockelbeck hides. He searched it
-systematically from horn to stubby tail, from the scaly back to the
-claws of the feet. Then he put his fluoroscope away. Grinning into his
-beard, he went aft and got a pair of pliers, a hammer and a cold chisel.</p>
-
-<p>One of the horns came away as he screwed it off. He knew already
-from its fluorescence that it was hollowed out and filled with some
-substance, but he wanted to make sure. He shook the pale green powder
-inside out into his palm and sniffed it. Yes, that was it. There was
-the unmistakable odor of crushed cherries and the sickish sweetness
-of the hashish of the skies&mdash;trilibaine! Ah, now he was getting
-somewhere. And as he split a few back scales at random he found that
-each had a few grams of the insidious drug within it. One such hide
-would supply a retail peddler for many months, each scale a separate
-delivery.</p>
-
-<p>He delayed no longer. He shifted his course toward Venus and at the
-same time sat down to his radio key. He sent:</p>
-
-<p>"URGENT: Venusberg Sky Yard. Attention assistant dockmaster. Four
-tubes disabled account switchboard fire. Please reserve for me berth
-twenty-three. Litigation in prospect. Can you recommend lawyer?
-(signed) Hank Karns, captain, TS Swapper."</p>
-
-<p>"Well," he said to himself as he carefully swept up the tell-tale green
-dust from the deck and added it to the bundle of broken scales and
-neatly bored and threaded horns preparatory to firing it all through
-the garbage tube into his wake, "I've shot my wad. Now let's see how
-smart Mr. Brown turns out to be."</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>He learned very soon that the thermobombs were but an added precaution.
-He had not been waiting more than a couple hours when his loudspeaker
-began to buzz. He glanced at it in surprise, as he was still a long way
-from Venus. The message began coming through, harsh and peremptory,
-"Lay to, <i>Swapper</i>, to receive a boarding party. Lay to, or take the
-consequences. Sky-guard calling. Lay to!"</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns cut his rockets and went to the airlock to await the arrival
-of the cruiser. It was not long in coming.</p>
-
-<p>Two smartly uniformed young officers sprang in.</p>
-
-<p>"Let's see your manifest," ordered one, curtly, while the other headed
-for the hold. In a moment the second came back with two flasks of the
-pale violet comet-dew.</p>
-
-<p>"The old boy is lousy with the stuff," he reported to the other. "Cases
-and cases of it."</p>
-
-<p>"Yes," said the first, "and not a damn word about it in the manifest.
-This makes the second one of these old coots we've hauled up this
-month&mdash;what do you say, shall we call this one conspiracy?"</p>
-
-<p>"Why not?" countered the other.</p>
-
-<p>Karns said nothing beyond the usual blustering protests that would be
-expected of him. Then he lapsed into silence as the two took over
-after ordering their own vessel to proceed.</p>
-
-<p>They did not go to the commercial sky-yard, but to the official one.
-Other officers met them, and Hank Karns was led straight away to jail.
-He protested every step of the way, demanding to be taken before the
-Terrestrial resident commissioner, or to be booked in the usual way.
-Both those demands were refused, whereupon he asked for a lawyer.</p>
-
-<p>"Don't kid yourself, old man," said one of his guards. "You're in Venus
-now. Here you are."</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="434" height="500" alt=""/>
-<div class="caption">
-<p>Ray-gun levelled, the guard shoved Hank stumblingly
-forward. He staggered and nearly fell, striking his head against the
-barred window. Outside he could see the form of a spaceship. But it was
-not the <i>Swapper</i>. The guard laughed and swaggered out.</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>There he was. There was no question about that. The barred door slammed
-behind his departing escort with an air of utter finality.</p>
-
-<p>"Hi-ya, pop!" screamed some hoodlum down the corridor. "Whatcha in for?"</p>
-
-<p>After that nothing happened. Hank Karns looked about him at his cramped
-cell and settled down to make the best of it. It would be tiresome,
-locked up alone this way, but in a day or so perhaps the mysterious Mr.
-Brown would put in his appearance.</p>
-
-<p>The next day came, but no Mr. Brown. However, early in the morning
-another visitor came in his place. Karns heard footsteps approaching
-and the jangle of keys. His door was flung open and a tall stranger
-stepped in. The man was quite old and clad in the blue uniform, faded
-and patched, of a space skipper. He was obviously a lone trader, but
-if he was, he was the only one in the universe that Hank Karns did not
-know. For this man, with his beetling gray eyebrows and hard steely
-eyes beneath, he had never laid eyes on before.</p>
-
-<p>"Two minutes, no more," warned the guard, and stood back in the
-corridor where he could both see and hear.</p>
-
-<p>"Howdy Hank," said the newcomer. "Danged if it ain't gitting so that
-Tom Bagley spends half his time bailing you out or paying fines. Why,
-I'd hardly landed here but what I heard you'd been slung into the
-calaboose again, and I says to myself, says I...."</p>
-
-<p>"Yeah, Tom, I know," said Hank Karns, penitently, trying not to look
-at the eavesdropping guard. Inwardly he was seething with doubt and
-curiosity. Could it be that this was some minion of the collector
-trying to trick him, or was he acting for Mr. Brown? He remembered
-telling the fellow in the wickerware place that what he really needed
-was a man of his own type. Maybe they had found one. At any rate, he
-chose to pretend he knew him.</p>
-
-<p>"Anyhow," went on the stranger, "I looked up a feller named Brown that
-I know here and asked him what to do. He said things looked pretty
-black and his advice was to plead guilty and say nothing. Might get
-off with a fine or something. And that he had a little money of yours.
-He got me this pass, but said he couldn't work it twice. Now tell me,
-Hank, what do you want me to do? I gotta get out of here for Mercury in
-a day or so."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns looked at the man steadily for a moment. He was on the
-spot. The man was evidently from Brown, but he knew neither of them
-personally. But worse, the guard was listening to every word, and there
-were doubtless dictaphones as well. But the two minutes were running
-out and there would not be a second visit.</p>
-
-<p>"I'll tell you, Tom, there isn't but one thing you can do. I'll have
-to take my medicine, I guess, but I hate like everything to lose them
-trocklebeck hides and horns. The critters is dying off&mdash;poisoned by
-pagras. Them danged snakes are all over Mercury. You might not have
-money enough to buy 'em in, but sorta keep track of 'em, won't you?
-They're not worth much now, but they'll be <i>mighty</i> valuable some day.
-There's a man here from Io that'll pay a good price for 'em, ef you can
-find him."</p>
-
-<p>"Time's up," snapped the guard, coming forward.</p>
-
-<p>"All right, you old scalawag," said the phony trader captain, jovially,
-"I'll do my best. But watch your step with that jedge. He's tough."</p>
-
-<p>"I know," said Hank Karns, despondently, and settled his face in his
-hands.</p>
-
-<p>The door slammed and the footsteps withdrew, ringing emptily down the
-metal passage.</p>
-
-<p>Dreary day followed dreary day. Time after time Karns heard footsteps
-ringing in the corridor, and as often he heard the rattle of keys as
-some door was opened and another unfortunate was ordered out to meet
-his doom&mdash;the sentence that was to change his state from slow dry rot
-to the swift wet rot of the Swamp. But it was never Karns' door.</p>
-
-<p>Then at last came the day when guards took him to the identical court
-where Wilkerson had been tried. The evidence was brief and to the
-point. He was apprehended trying to sneak into Venus when his clearance
-papers called for Terra as his destination. He had on board eight cases
-of illicit liquor. He had no acceptable explanation. Guilty. Two years
-in the Swamp and the loss of his ship was the sentence. Then they took
-him back to his cell to await the next caravan to the penal camps.</p>
-
-<p>The second stretch of waiting was harder to take than the first, for
-he had placed the enigmatic collector now in his memory. The man was
-Von Kleber, thought to have died many years ago in the uranium mines
-of Sans Espérance. Karns knew him to be a convict from the fact that
-he had grafted new skin on his face and head so that the burns and
-baldness caused by radioactivity would not show. But that he was the
-notorious Von Kleber himself had not occurred to him. And with that
-recognition came the other. Raoul Dement was the man known as Frenchy
-the Hop, vice-president of the Von Kleber ring. It was he who had
-operated the narcotic racket while the big boss turned his attention to
-such other lines as piracy, white-slaving and smuggling in general. If
-such men could flourish unchecked in the well-policed Jovian satellites
-for more than a decade, it was hopeless to expect to dislodge them from
-their place on corrupt and autonomous Venus.</p>
-
-<p>And so time dragged on and Hank Karns sat, awaiting the day when he
-would be taken away to the Swamp. He wondered apathetically whether he
-would be sent to the same camp where Wilkerson and Hildreth were. But
-at last there came a day when footsteps rang again in the corridors and
-he heard doors being opened and men taken away. Finally men stopped
-before his own cell and called him forth. Between two soldiers they
-marched him away.</p>
-
-<p>To his surprise they took him first to the street, where three sedan
-chairs were waiting. The guards very politely indicated that Karns was
-to get in the middle one and they took the others. Hank clambered in
-and they set off. Shortly they drew up before the courthouse.</p>
-
-<p>He was met inside by a tall, slender man of nearly his own age who wore
-the uniform of Chief Inspector of the Interplanetary F.B.I.</p>
-
-<p>"How are you, Captain?" he said cheerily. "Sorry you had such a long
-stay in jail, but we'll try to make that up to you. Come in here and
-let me show you something?"</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns looked at the inspector in amazement. He was Frank Haynes,
-the man who had broken the Von Kleber case years before. There had been
-a time when they worked closely together on the information that Karns
-furnished when he was released from Sans Espérance. He said nothing in
-reply, though, as Haynes was leading the way into the courtroom. In the
-dock were two baldheaded prisoners&mdash;Von Kleber, erstwhile Collector
-of the Port, and Mr. Dement, manager of the Mercurian drug works. The
-judge was a new one&mdash;a judge who looked like a judge should look.</p>
-
-<p>"There they are, thanks to you," said Haynes, pointing. "Two as clever
-criminals as ever plagued the system. We've been a long time catching
-them. But their career is over now.</p>
-
-<p>"Our local operative, known as Brown to you, has been trying for months
-to locate the source of the trilobaine flood but without avail. The
-Venusian authorities blocked him at every turn but there was nothing
-we could do about that unless we could hang a Federal offense on
-them. It was you who did that for us. I am very glad I gave you that
-identification ring after our cleanup on Callisto and the list of
-the secret addresses of our agents. I felt then that you were a man
-of discretion and would not abuse its privileges and today I most
-certainly am more than justified. When I interviewed you in your
-cell...."</p>
-
-<p>"You!"</p>
-
-<p>Inspector Haynes grinned at Hank's surprise.</p>
-
-<p>"Pretty effective disguise, eh? Well, as I was about to say&mdash;you gave
-me all the tips that were needed. First of all, your mention of the
-scourge of pagras told me it was trilobaine you had aboard, for that is
-a distillation of pagra venom. That gave us jurisdiction. I attended
-the secret auction and tried to bid. Everything in the ship went for a
-song to Von Kleber's pals, but when I went to bid on the trocklebeck
-hides I ran into stiff opposition. They were not to be had at any
-price. So I stopped bidding.</p>
-
-<p>"Our operatives trailed those hides through five sets of owners before
-we came to the Collector himself. Early this morning we made our raid
-and took in all their supplies of drugs and twenty-five of their
-peddlers. Previously we had raided Mercury and those men came in about
-an hour ago. They had quite a thriving little business, and why we
-didn't think of their method of smuggling in the trilobaine before this
-I'll never know. We knew, of course, that it must be coming in the
-ships that they confiscated. That much we were sure of. But we couldn't
-prove a damn thing until we knew <i>how</i>. Thanks to you, the ring is
-busted now, and we can do something for those poor devils who were
-innocently duped into being carriers of the drug. Runners have already
-been sent to the Swamp to bring back your friends. And there you are.
-You'll find your old <i>Swapper</i> in the Yard, completely overhauled and
-stocked to the gunwales with grade A trade goods."</p>
-
-<p>Hank Karns, trader, tugged at his grizzled beard and looked rather
-sheepishly at the floor.</p>
-
-<p>"Dag it all," he said "that's fine enough. But gosh, I sure hated to
-make a damfool of myself in front of everybody thataway."</p>
-
-<p>Inspector Haynes broke into laughter and crossed over and slapped him
-on the back.</p>
-
-<p>"You old liar. You loved it!"</p>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of 4 1/2 B, Eros, by Malcolm Jameson
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-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
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-Title: 4 1/2 B, Eros
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-Author: Malcolm Jameson
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-Release Date: April 18, 2020 [EBook #61863]
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-Language: English
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- 4-1/2B, EROS
-
- By MALCOLM JAMESON
-
- "4-1/2B, Eros."... A strange code, but
- grizzled space-trader Karns used it to
- break the perilous Mercury-Venus Jinx.
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Planet Stories Spring 1941.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-"Makee chop chop. Kwei! Kwei!"
-
-The two Venusian coolies squatted down between the shafts and with one
-quick motion elevated the sedan chair to shoulder height. Then they
-started off in a lazy run through the torrential downpour, splashing
-mud right and left as their sturdy yellow legs struck into the watery
-lane of muck that passes for a road in Venusberg. Captain Hank Karns,
-the Lone Trader, sank back in his seat and watched idly with mild blue
-eyes as first one grass hut and then another appeared momentarily
-through rifts of rain. There would be time enough to worry about Cappy
-Wilkerson's plight when he reached the administration building and
-found out more about the charges against him. No doubt it was just
-another shakedown, the effort of some minor official to pry loose a
-little more than the customary cumshaw.
-
-Captain Karns had berthed his own old trading tub not an hour earlier
-and as he registered the arrival of his _Swapper_ he noted that under
-the date of three days before there was the entry: "_Wanderer_, Captain
-Wilkerson, en route Mercury to Luna." After it was the notation in red:
-"Detained by order Collector of the Port; captain in custody."
-
-Hank Karns thoughtfully pawed his long white beard. Cappy Wilkerson was
-a careful and upright man and a lifelong friend; what manner of charge
-could they have trumped up against him? That they were trumped up he
-took for granted, for the local government of autonomous Venus was
-notoriously corrupt and always had been. The Venusians themselves were
-the descendants of coolies brought centuries before from tropical Asia.
-They took little or no interest in government. Politics had, therefore,
-fallen into the hands of white adventurers, most of whom lived on Venus
-for the very good reason they were not wanted elsewhere. The Central
-Council of the loose Interplanetary Federation seldom interfered with
-them unless for acts so flagrant as to affect the Federation as a whole.
-
-The old space merchant left his chair at the courtroom and squeezed
-through the crowd at the back just in time to hear the whack, whack,
-whack of the gavel marking the end of the trial. Standing defiantly
-in the prisoner's box was Cappy Wilkerson, his eyes flashing and his
-iron-gray mane thrown back. He looked like an indignant old lion
-brought to bay by a pack of jackals. The judge, a young man with a
-monocle and a stiff black pompadour, was dressed in a smart military
-uniform which made him appear anything but judicial. He was biting out
-his words as if what he was saying was inspired by personal venom.
-
-"I have heard all you have had to say, including your filthy
-imputations as to the integrity of this court. Your guilt is so
-apparent that we need not trouble even to preserve the record of your
-silly and malicious allegations...."
-
-Here the judge contemptuously tossed a sheaf of papers into a
-wastebasket.
-
-"Therefore, bearing in mind not only your guilt but your contumacious
-conduct before me, I sentence you to five years at hard labor in such a
-one of our prison camps as the Director of Welfare and Beneficence may
-select.
-
-"It is further directed that your ship, together with its illicit
-contents, be confiscated and sold at public auction in order to defray
-the cost of these proceedings. Marshal! Take him away."
-
-Hank Karns was on his feet at once, elbowing and pushing his way
-forward through the departing throng of curiosity-seekers. His voice
-was shrill with indignation.
-
-"Hey, you can't do that!" he yelled. Officials closed in on him at
-once, and the judge's face grew red with anger. "This is a court of
-law," he said, "and the decisions of the presiding judge are final. Now
-get out before I haul you up for contempt."
-
-"Tarnation damn!" muttered Hank Karns as he turned and left the
-building. This was no ordinary shakedown. This called for action, and
-quick action, for it was unthinkable that his buddy should be carted
-off to the insect-infested, fever-ridden, infamous Great Swamp of
-Venus. White men lived but a few months there; a year, let alone five
-years, was as good as life.
-
-A bulletin caught his eye, and as he read it he gasped. The paste
-that fastened it to the board was still wet, but the paper bore
-characteristics of printed type. It must have been prepared at least a
-day ago. It read:
-
- COLLECTOR'S SALE
-
- One confiscated tube ship, the _Wanderer_, complete with fittings.
- The cargo of the same consisting of miscellaneous trade goods.
- Saturday. Inquire at Collector's Office for details.
-
-"Phew!" gasped Hank Karns. "_That_ was quick work. And planned." He
-turned and made his way to the Collector's Office.
-
-The man at the front desk gaped at him woodenly.
-
-"S'already sold," he said indifferently, the third time Karns put his
-question.
-
-"But it says Saturday...."
-
-"Okay--it says Saturday. So what?"
-
-"B-but this is only Tuesday...."
-
-"We have a Saturday every week, dodo. Now trot along and annoy somebody
-else for a change. I have work to do."
-
-Hank Karns blinked. Why, Saturday was the day the _Wanderer_ docked.
-These Venusians were getting raw. They must have sold her that very day!
-
-"Who is that old man? Throw him out!"
-
-Karns turned slowly and viewed the new speaker. He was a big man,
-with piercing black eyes and a hawk nose, and heavily bearded--a
-strange sight for super-tropical Venus where men kept clean shaven
-for coolness. But the man turned abruptly away and entered an inner
-office, slamming the door behind him. Hank Karns' eyes followed him
-all the way--they were fixed on the back of the fellow's neck. There,
-oddly enough, just above the shoulder line, peeped a line of color
-demarcation. Above the line, which was made visible by the fact that
-its wearer had pulled open his collar for comfort, the skin was the
-normal pallor usually seen on Venus; below, it was a mottled chocolate
-color.
-
-"Didja hear what the collector said?" snarled the clerk. "Scram!"
-
-Without a word, Hank Karns turned and left the office. He passed
-through the thronged corridors almost in a daze. There was Cappy
-Wilkerson, gone to the Swamp, virtually condemned to death. There was
-his ship sold, even before the trial which was to condemn it. And
-everywhere there was high-handed insolence, seemingly inspired by this
-overbearing man with the duplex complexion. What did it mean? And the
-fact that he could not yet place those sharp eyes and that predatory
-nose, though somewhere, sometime, he had encountered them before,
-puzzled Hank Karns still more. Something stank in Venus.
-
- * * * * *
-
-An hour later he sat morosely in a tiny tavern he had long known,
-hidden up the blind alley known as Artemis Lane. For half a century it
-had been familiar to him as the hangout for his kind.
-
-"So you see how it is," the bartender was concluding. "At this rate
-there won't be any more. With all the old-timers dead or in the Swamp,
-how in hell can _I_ keep running. No sir, this joint is for sale--for
-what it'll bring. Drink up and have another."
-
-Captain Karns took the proffered drink from the grizzled tavern-keeper,
-but despite its cheering nature--for it was purest "comet-dew"--he took
-it glumly. Never in all his long and active life had he heard so much
-evil news at one sitting. Another of his old pals had come to grief,
-and all because he had touched at Mercury. Mercury, it appeared, was
-poison to all his tribe. The record was too consistent to be accounted
-for by coincidence. Coincidents do not occur in strings.
-
-"And what makes it stink all the worse," persisted the indignant
-bartender, bitterly, "not a damn finger is lifted to stop the flow of
-trilibaine. The town is lousy with it. Half these natives stay hopped
-up all the time."
-
-"I thought the Federals had cleaned that up ten years ago," commented
-Hank Karns.
-
-"It's back," was the laconic retort.
-
-Hank Karns said nothing. The fact that three of his buddies were
-languishing in the malarial swamps of Venus, continually subject to the
-indignities of brutal guards was uppermost in his mind. And besides
-that, two others--Bill Ellison and Jed Carter--had died on Mercury
-when their ships mysteriously blew up on the take-off. That, too, had
-an especial significance, for those two were the only members of the
-trader tribe who had any sort of reputation as fire-eaters. In their
-youth, of course, all of them had been bolder and more truculent, but
-as they gained in experience they learned that there is more to be
-gained by soft words than bluster. If Hank was to secure the release of
-his friends it must be by guile, the use of a cunning superior to that
-employed by their common enemies.
-
-_If_ he was to secure! There was no if about it. He must. For it was
-Bob Merrill and Ben Wilkerson who had once rescued him, Hank Karns,
-from an even more deadly situation. More than twenty years ago that
-had been, on far-off Io, and Hank Karns winced at the memory of it. On
-that occasion he had, through the machinations of the notorious Von
-Kleber gang, been convicted and sentenced as a pirate. Ten hateful
-and horror-filled days and nights he had spent in the mines of Sans
-Esperance, the Federal Penitentiary, digging radioactive ores. Two of
-his friendly competitors heard of it and pled for a new trial wherein
-it was shown that he had been sent up through perjured testimony to
-screen the trial of the real culprits. The wave of public opinion they
-started then did not subside until Von Kleber and his outlaws were put
-finally behind the bars.
-
-No, there was no choice. Cappy Wilkerson and Cappy Merrill must be
-released and Ellison and Carter avenged. How? That remained to be seen.
-
-"Wa-al," drawled Hank Karns, elaborately, now that his mind was made
-up, "I'll be seein' you. I'm taking a little trip into Mercury and
-back."
-
-The bartender shook his head ominously.
-
-"No fool like an old fool," he said, and he didn't laugh.
-
-In the rain-lock, or the vestibule outside the bar, Karns stopped. He
-felt inside the lining of his vest and after much fumbling produced a
-dog-eared memorandum book. He ran through the yellowed pages until he
-found one covered with cryptic entries. They appeared as if made long
-ago, but several interlineations in various colored inks showed that
-amendments had been made from time to time since the original writing
-of them.
-
-Halfway down was the group P2, and what followed had been
-twice changed. The line that stood in lieu of them read:
-"Vbg--wickerware--4-1/2B, Eros." Hank Karns read the line through
-two or three times, then snapped the book shut and replaced it in
-its hiding place. He carefully buckled up his slicker and jammed his
-sou'wester tight upon his head. Then he stepped forth into the steamy
-drizzle of Artemis Lane.
-
-He sloshed his way through mud and water until he came to the main
-drag. He turned to the right and splashed along until he came to the
-corner where Erosville Road turned off. He took the turn and plugged
-along for four blocks of its twisting, boggy length. A dozen steps
-farther on he lifted his eyes and peered from beneath dripping brows
-at the signs about. Across the street was what he sought--a sagging
-awning crudely painted with the legend; "An Shirgar--Dealer in Native
-Basketry." On the bedewed window below was another, "Hir Spak Anglass."
-
-Hank Karns stopped under the awning long enough to squish some of the
-water out of his shoes, then he entered. A swarthy, turbanned Venusian
-met him, rubbing his hands together obsequiously and bowing jerkily at
-every step.
-
-"Yiss, milord. Valcom to mizrable shop. Vat vishes milord?"
-
-"Wickerware," said Hank Karns, tartly, for him. "For export."
-
-"Ah," breathed the representative of An Shirgar. "Zhipluds, eh? You
-pay?" Captain Karns shook his head, and pointed to the private door at
-the back.
-
-"Ah, vickware. No pay. Maybe boss ut see, eh?"
-
-"Yep, trot him out," said Hank Karns, and began fingering the clever
-basketware of the Venutian hillmen. He knew it would be quite a while
-before the Earth-man came, if this was operated like the Callistan
-branch had been, twenty years before. After a time, without quite
-knowing how he knew, he was aware that someone else was in the
-showroom, studying him from a distance.
-
-"Howdy," he said, turning around. "I kinda wanted to finance a deal
-that's too big for me to swing--is this the place?"
-
-"Might be," said the man non-committally. He was a typical Terrestrian
-business man, not much over thirty, baldish, and plainly not given to
-foolishness. "I don't touch anything as a rule unless I see a profit in
-it. And no chance of loss. What is your collateral?"
-
-Hank Karns mentioned his ship. The man snorted, and started to turn
-away. "You're wasting time."
-
-"I got a ring, too. It's a--well--sorta heirloom."
-
-The man came back. He was still not interested, but he took the ring
-Karns offered him and weighed it in his hand. Then he applied a loup to
-his eye and examined it closely.
-
-"You've hocked this before?"
-
-"Yes," chuckled Hank Karns. "And got it back, too."
-
-"Hmmm," said the man. "It looks genuine. What do you want?"
-
-"I--uh--am dropping into Mercury to do a little trading. When I get
-back I might want to buy a chair or so--mebbe a houseful of stuff--and
-just wanted to be sure my credit was good."
-
-"You speak in riddles, my friend," said the man with a curious, tight
-little smile. He was tossing the ring thoughtfully all the while.
-
-"I'm only a lone trader," said Hank Karns, wistfully, "and don't know
-no better. Supposing you keep the ring while I'm gone--to appraise it,
-so to speak. All I want to know is who to call for when I get back.
-_If_ I get back."
-
-The man pocketed the ring.
-
-"Where will the call come from?"
-
-"I dunno. Space, mebbe. Jail, mebbe."
-
-"My radio call is care assistant dockmaster, Venusberg sky-yard.
-Mention berth twenty-three somehow. As to the jail angle, I do not as a
-general thing do business with people in jail. In that event, I might
-send you a lawyer, in consideration of this ring. Tell Rashab, the
-night turn-key--you'll know him by the double scar on his chin--that
-you want to see Mr. Brown. I can't guarantee he'll go, but if he does,
-bear in mind he's a very cagy fellow and that Venusberg jail is studded
-with dictaphones and scanners. If what you have in mind smacks at all
-of illegality, it's likely he'll walk out on you."
-
-"Yep," snapped Hank Karns, beginning to shut the clasps on his slicker,
-"I'll remember. Only I don't think it'll be a lawyer I'll need. If the
-joint is lousy with spy-machines, what I'll want is an old friend--a
-man of my type."
-
-The man, whatever his name was, for he had still not given it, laughed
-outright for the first time. He slapped the Lone Trader on the back.
-
-"Men of your type, you old humbug, are extinct as the horse."
-
-Hank Karns looked up to laugh back at him, but he was gone. In his
-place stood the turbanned Venutian, still doing washing motions with
-his hands.
-
-"Milord no like vickvare? Milord go now?"
-
-"My Lord, yes. I go now."
-
-Karns jammed on his sou'wester, took a deep breath, and pushed open
-the door. A half hour later he was making ready for the take-off for
-Mercury. It was a shot in the dark, but it was a chance he had to take.
-
-"To hell with that," thought Hank Karns. Then briskly to the boy he
-had brought with him this trip as a general utility man, "Hey, Billy,
-look alive! Bear a hand with getting them there rakes stowed!"
-
- * * * * *
-
-"So that's Mercury," exclaimed Billy Hatch, four days later, as
-he stared goggle-eyed into the visiplate. This was his first
-interplanetary trip.
-
-"Yep," said Karns, "That's her, the doggonedest planet barrin' none in
-the whole dad-frazzled system. After you've been here you can tell 'em
-you've seen wind blow, and I mean blow. That's what them rakes is for.
-To get around you lie down on your belly and pull yourself along by
-them. It's a helluva place. The sun on your back'd fry you, 'cepting
-there's always a ice-cold hurricane cooling you off."
-
-"How can that be, cap'n?"
-
-"Convection's the ten-sol word for it. It's cause she's sizzling hot
-on one side and colder'n the underside of a iceberg on t'other. The
-wind goes straight up over the desert and comes straight down over
-the back side glaciers. Then it scoots for the desert again--and how!
-Nobody could live an hour in any part of the place if it warn't for
-the temp'rate strip, and that's cockeyed enough. You gotta steady,
-hundred-two-hundred-mile wind going straight into the sun, for that's
-right down to the horizon. In the lee of a house you burn up, in the
-shade of it you'd freeze solid in five minutes. And the houses have to
-be stone and streamlined."
-
-Hank Karns kept a watchful eye on the terrain coming up to meet them.
-Mooring a ship in that wind required the utmost art.
-
-"As I told you, itsa helluva place. Nuthing grows there but a sort of
-grass and some moss. The only animals is varmints, like the cangrela
-and the trocklebeck. It's cangrela claws and trocklebeck hides we trade
-for."
-
-Billy Hatch listened, wide-eyed. This was romance.
-
-"The trocklebeck is a critter something on the order of a armadillo,
-only it's got horns and big claws to hang onto the ground. It grazes,
-with its head allus into the wind. The cangrela is built along
-the lines of a crab and has claws, too. It crawls up behind the
-trocklebeck and kills 'em while they're feeding. Trocklebeck scales and
-cangrela claws are both harder'n hell. They use 'em in machinery."
-
-"Oh," said Billy Hatch.
-
-"But you better git forrard there and tend to them grapples, 'cause
-a-gitting hold of the ground here is ticklish business. Ef we miss it's
-just too bad. We'll roll over and over for miles and miles, like as
-not."
-
-Hank Karns said no more for a time. As a matter of fact, he was far
-from ready to land. He had deliberately come up on the wrong side
-of the planet for making the landing at Sam Atkins' little trading
-store. He wanted to give it a general bird's-eye view. It was in a
-valley scooped out by the wind that he saw the first sign of a major
-alteration. Behind a huge artificial wind-break lay a group of new
-buildings, and one of them was dome-topped with a squat chimney. A
-matter of ten miles farther away was another new house and a small
-warehouse behind it. Just over the next low ridge lay Atkins' place.
-
-"Standby," warned Hank Karns, as he brought the ship's nose into the
-hurricane and began losing altitude. "Don't let go 'til I tell you--and
-that'll be when we're practically down."
-
-Just as the keel kissed the ground, Karns gave the signal and the
-anchors fell. At the same instant he cut his rockets and the ship began
-falling away to leeward, dragging her anchors behind. In a moment they
-grabbed, pulled loose and grabbed again. That time they held. Karns
-released a long pent-up sigh. It was a perfect landing. Sam Atkins'
-house lay but a bare hundred yards on the quarter.
-
-There was still the business of shooting a wire over the trading post
-and making it fast at both ends, Atkins coming out to do his share.
-Then Captain Karns slid down the wire to the shack and allowed himself
-to be hauled in by the trading post keeper.
-
-"I'm glad to see you, Cap'n, and sorry at the same time," was his
-greeting from Sam Atkins. Atkins was a grumpy sort and a self-made
-hermit. He seemed to enjoy the solitude of windswept Mercury and the
-tedious, strenuous work of snaring cangrelas.
-
-"How come sorry, Sam?" asked Hank Karns, as innocently as if he had
-never visited Venus.
-
-Atkins looked mournfully at him and jerked a thumb eastward.
-
-"I've got neighbors--bad ones. Whatever you do, don't go over there.
-They'll trick you somehow. They don't want outsiders coming here,
-they've got a ship of their own that makes a trip every week or so."
-
-Hank Karns raised his eyebrows.
-
-"Trocklebecks must be breeding faster'n they used to," he observed.
-"Mercury never produced enough to justify more than two trips a year,
-if that."
-
-"Trocklebecks," stated Atkins, "are practically extinct. And the
-cangrelas are starving. I doubt if I could scare up four cases of prime
-claws to save my soul. It's _pagras_ that's doing it. The place is
-crawling with them. They bite the trockelbecks and they curl up and
-die."
-
-"Mmm," commented Hank Karns. He remembered those serpents well. They
-were originally a Venusian beast--a variety of dragon, and extremely
-venomous. They were really legged snakes, having thirty-six pairs
-of taloned legs and crab-like claws near the head, but the body was
-slender, rarely exceeding a yard in girth, for all their thirty-foot
-lengths.
-
-"I'm closing up shop here," said the gloomy Atkins next. "You can take
-the pick of what I own if you'll set me down at the next stop you make."
-
-"Now you just keep your shirt on, Sam Atkins," replied Hank Karns, "I'm
-not a-doing anything of the damn kind. I'm going over and have a talk
-with those gents in the next valley...."
-
-Sam Atkins glared at him.
-
-"No fool like an old fool," he remarked, hopelessly.
-
-Hank Karns chuckled.
-
-"Seems folks are agreed pretty well about me. But let's eat, so I can
-get along my way."
-
-Unmooring and getting in the anchors was a troublesome job with only
-a green boy for a helper, but Hank Karns managed it. At that it was a
-much easier maneuver to move the ship that mile over the ridge than to
-try to crawl it in the teeth of a permanent typhoon. Moreover, if there
-was cargo to take aboard--and Hank Karns felt sure there would be--the
-ship would have to be moved anyhow. So he took off, circumnavigated the
-planet, and came up again, this time to the little office building and
-warehouse next to Atkins' shack. He took good care not to go near the
-other group of buildings.
-
-As he descended, casting about for a good spot to fling out his
-grapnels he kept a sharp eye out for signs of life about the buildings.
-All he saw was a couple of bronzed men, both bald as billiard balls,
-working over some object in the lee of the warehouse. Upon sighting the
-descending spaceship one went inside the warehouse and the other caught
-hold of the guide-wire and let himself be blown down to what appeared
-to be the office building. The man had on a heavily quilted suit of
-gray material--quilted so that if he lost his hold and was blown away,
-he would not bruise himself to death along the ground.
-
-On the fourth try, Hank Karns managed to ground his ship not far from
-the office door. This time he landed to leeward and had to make his way
-up-wind by crawling, assisted by a Mercurian "staff," or one of the
-rakes among his trade goods. As he crawled, he observed he was being
-watched from a loophole beside the door. But as he drew himself erect,
-the door opened and a man came out to greet him.
-
-"Hello, Captain," said the man, cordially, "we're very glad to see you.
-Come in and rest yourself." The man, Karns observed, was dressed in a
-heavily quilted suit and was breathing heavily. But he had a full head
-of hair and a luxuriant mustache.
-
-"Howdy, yourself," returned the Lone Trader. "Phew! It's shore dusty
-hereabouts--I've heard of the place but I never seen it. The far
-Trojans is my bailiwick and the asteroids in that corner...."
-
-"Really?" said the man, helping his visitor through the door. The
-office was a single room, and no one else was in it. There was a bottle
-of voilet-hued liquor on the table and two glasses. "Have a drink? This
-is home brew--our Mercurian version of comet-dew--made from flowers
-that grow under the glacier lips."
-
-"Don't care ef I do," remarked Karns, and sat down in the seat
-indicated. "As I was saying, I thought I'd look in on this place,
-seeing as how I had to make the perihelion hop home. Have to git home
-to see my oldest grandchild married."
-
-"Wouldn't be interested in a bit of cargo, would you?" asked the man.
-"Our own ship is overdue, and I have some freight for Venus."
-
-"I'm allus interested in a bit of cargo," said Karns, "but this trip I
-can't stop by Venus--time's too short."
-
-"Oh, well," said his host, indifferently, "it doesn't matter about
-that. I was thinking of shipping some boxes of claws and hides to
-our agent at Venusberg for sale there. We are a new company and have
-no outlets on Terra yet, unless you wanted to speculate on your own
-account and buy them outright."
-
-"Speculation's my business," said Hank Karns, serene and bland. And
-added, with just a touch of foxiness, "_ef_ the buying price is right."
-
-"Oh, we won't quarrel about that," laughed the man. "The hides are
-a by-product with us--this is a pharmaceutical outfit. We make a
-preparation from the hormones of these beasts. You can have the horns
-at almost any price."
-
-They spent the better part of an hour in good natured haggling, the
-child-like old man raising first one trivial objection after another to
-win small advantages--chiefly in the matter of valuation of the various
-items of trade goods he had to offer. None of the lone traders ever
-dealt in cash. The _Swapper_ was most appropriately named.
-
-At last they shook on the bargain--and a bargain it most obviously was
-from the trader's point of view. Mr. Raoul Dement, or so the company
-man styled himself, presented the visiting captain two flasks of the
-violet liquor after the old custom of the trade.
-
-"Nice stuff," observed Hank Karns, licking his lip. "The best I ever."
-
-"There's twelve cases of it in the warehouse," said Dement, with a
-wink. "Now, if you were the smuggling sort, there would be a nice
-profit for you. But, of course...."
-
-"Hell," exploded Hank Karns, "running comet-dew's no sin. Wisht I had a
-decimo for every gallon I've hauled. Once in a coon's age I get stuck
-with a little fine, but shucks--the customer'll allus pay that for
-you."
-
-There followed more dickering, but the upshot of it was that Hank Karns
-signed up for everything that had been offered him.
-
-"Bon voyage," said Mr. Dement. "If you ever pass this way again, drop
-in and visit."
-
-"Sure will," said Hank Karns, looking his man in the eye. He was
-interested in his host's forehead. About an inch from the right temple
-there was a slight depression--the ineradicable scar of an old skull
-injury.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Mercury was still a big disk behind when the _Swapper_ straightened out
-on her earthward trajectory.
-
-"Step alive there, Billy, we got lots to do."
-
-All the blandness, all the gullibility and child-like faith were gone
-from Hank Karns' face now. He looked much more like work-ridden gnome
-than an emaciated Santa Claus. For they had unpacked every case and
-strewn its contents on the deck, looking for contraband of a more
-serious nature than the harmless comet-dew. But no case contained
-anything except what the invoice declared. Hank left the job of
-repacking to the boy and went about a minute search of the ship itself.
-
-In that he was not a moment too soon. Behind the control board--hidden
-under the vine-like mass of electric leads--were two thermobombs. Their
-detonating coils were already hot. The control board was divided into
-three panels, each controlling an opposite pair of the six tubes which
-were arranged hexagonally about the stern. Two of the panels were about
-to be ruined by fire.
-
-Hank Karns' first impulse was to snatch the bombs loose and let them
-burn out harmlessly on the deck, but suddenly he checked it. Instead he
-withdrew his hand and stuck his blistered fingers in his mouth. Then he
-shouted a warning to Billy Hatch.
-
-"Hey! Stand by for a blast. Bring an extinguisher, quick!"
-
-The boy ran up, but nothing happened for several minutes. Then the two
-boards flashed fire. They put the fire out, but the damage was done.
-The _Swapper_ was not nearly up to acceleration. She could never get to
-Earth at that velocity. She would have to limp into Venus on her two
-remaining tubes and have yard electricians renew her wiring.
-
-"Pretty neat," said Hank Karns, admiringly, contemplating his ruined
-controls.
-
-"I did the best I could, Cap'n," said Billy, modestly, thinking the
-compliment was meant for him.
-
-"You did all right, son," said the skipper. "Supposing you turn in now.
-I'll do what's left."
-
-Hank Karns did not at once change course for Venus. He was still
-unsatisfied that he knew all he should know about his ship and its
-seemingly innocuous cargo. It was too obvious to miss that Dement had
-ordered the bombs planted to ensure the _Swapper's_ going into Venus.
-It was an easy guess that the suggestion to take liquor on board was a
-device to ensure the ship's arrest and the confiscation that was sure
-to follow, Venusian courts being what they were. But to Hank Karns'
-suspicious mind there was much more to it than that. In the first
-place, he could have obviated both. He could have snatched the bombs
-before they exploded, and he could yet jettison the liquor. Moreover,
-if the mere elimination of all visitors to Mercury was what they
-were after, those bombs could just as well have been of feroxite and
-designed to destroy the ship entirely, as was done in the case of the
-openly hostile Merrill and Carter. No, the master plot required the
-_Swapper_ to go into Venus and be done away with there. Why? He thought
-that over.
-
-Suddenly he arose and unlocked his little safe. From its lead container
-he withdrew a small pellet of radium and set up his fluoroscope.
-Then he dragged out one of the trockelbeck hides. He searched it
-systematically from horn to stubby tail, from the scaly back to the
-claws of the feet. Then he put his fluoroscope away. Grinning into his
-beard, he went aft and got a pair of pliers, a hammer and a cold chisel.
-
-One of the horns came away as he screwed it off. He knew already
-from its fluorescence that it was hollowed out and filled with some
-substance, but he wanted to make sure. He shook the pale green powder
-inside out into his palm and sniffed it. Yes, that was it. There was
-the unmistakable odor of crushed cherries and the sickish sweetness
-of the hashish of the skies--trilibaine! Ah, now he was getting
-somewhere. And as he split a few back scales at random he found that
-each had a few grams of the insidious drug within it. One such hide
-would supply a retail peddler for many months, each scale a separate
-delivery.
-
-He delayed no longer. He shifted his course toward Venus and at the
-same time sat down to his radio key. He sent:
-
-"URGENT: Venusberg Sky Yard. Attention assistant dockmaster. Four
-tubes disabled account switchboard fire. Please reserve for me berth
-twenty-three. Litigation in prospect. Can you recommend lawyer?
-(signed) Hank Karns, captain, TS Swapper."
-
-"Well," he said to himself as he carefully swept up the tell-tale green
-dust from the deck and added it to the bundle of broken scales and
-neatly bored and threaded horns preparatory to firing it all through
-the garbage tube into his wake, "I've shot my wad. Now let's see how
-smart Mr. Brown turns out to be."
-
- * * * * *
-
-He learned very soon that the thermobombs were but an added precaution.
-He had not been waiting more than a couple hours when his loudspeaker
-began to buzz. He glanced at it in surprise, as he was still a long way
-from Venus. The message began coming through, harsh and peremptory,
-"Lay to, _Swapper_, to receive a boarding party. Lay to, or take the
-consequences. Sky-guard calling. Lay to!"
-
-Hank Karns cut his rockets and went to the airlock to await the arrival
-of the cruiser. It was not long in coming.
-
-Two smartly uniformed young officers sprang in.
-
-"Let's see your manifest," ordered one, curtly, while the other headed
-for the hold. In a moment the second came back with two flasks of the
-pale violet comet-dew.
-
-"The old boy is lousy with the stuff," he reported to the other. "Cases
-and cases of it."
-
-"Yes," said the first, "and not a damn word about it in the manifest.
-This makes the second one of these old coots we've hauled up this
-month--what do you say, shall we call this one conspiracy?"
-
-"Why not?" countered the other.
-
-Karns said nothing beyond the usual blustering protests that would be
-expected of him. Then he lapsed into silence as the two took over
-after ordering their own vessel to proceed.
-
-They did not go to the commercial sky-yard, but to the official one.
-Other officers met them, and Hank Karns was led straight away to jail.
-He protested every step of the way, demanding to be taken before the
-Terrestrial resident commissioner, or to be booked in the usual way.
-Both those demands were refused, whereupon he asked for a lawyer.
-
-"Don't kid yourself, old man," said one of his guards. "You're in Venus
-now. Here you are."
-
-[Illustration: Ray-gun levelled, the guard shoved Hank stumblingly
-forward. He staggered and nearly fell, striking his head against the
-barred window. Outside he could see the form of a spaceship. But it was
-not the _Swapper_. The guard laughed and swaggered out.]
-
-There he was. There was no question about that. The barred door slammed
-behind his departing escort with an air of utter finality.
-
-"Hi-ya, pop!" screamed some hoodlum down the corridor. "Whatcha in for?"
-
-After that nothing happened. Hank Karns looked about him at his cramped
-cell and settled down to make the best of it. It would be tiresome,
-locked up alone this way, but in a day or so perhaps the mysterious Mr.
-Brown would put in his appearance.
-
-The next day came, but no Mr. Brown. However, early in the morning
-another visitor came in his place. Karns heard footsteps approaching
-and the jangle of keys. His door was flung open and a tall stranger
-stepped in. The man was quite old and clad in the blue uniform, faded
-and patched, of a space skipper. He was obviously a lone trader, but
-if he was, he was the only one in the universe that Hank Karns did not
-know. For this man, with his beetling gray eyebrows and hard steely
-eyes beneath, he had never laid eyes on before.
-
-"Two minutes, no more," warned the guard, and stood back in the
-corridor where he could both see and hear.
-
-"Howdy Hank," said the newcomer. "Danged if it ain't gitting so that
-Tom Bagley spends half his time bailing you out or paying fines. Why,
-I'd hardly landed here but what I heard you'd been slung into the
-calaboose again, and I says to myself, says I...."
-
-"Yeah, Tom, I know," said Hank Karns, penitently, trying not to look
-at the eavesdropping guard. Inwardly he was seething with doubt and
-curiosity. Could it be that this was some minion of the collector
-trying to trick him, or was he acting for Mr. Brown? He remembered
-telling the fellow in the wickerware place that what he really needed
-was a man of his own type. Maybe they had found one. At any rate, he
-chose to pretend he knew him.
-
-"Anyhow," went on the stranger, "I looked up a feller named Brown that
-I know here and asked him what to do. He said things looked pretty
-black and his advice was to plead guilty and say nothing. Might get
-off with a fine or something. And that he had a little money of yours.
-He got me this pass, but said he couldn't work it twice. Now tell me,
-Hank, what do you want me to do? I gotta get out of here for Mercury in
-a day or so."
-
-Hank Karns looked at the man steadily for a moment. He was on the
-spot. The man was evidently from Brown, but he knew neither of them
-personally. But worse, the guard was listening to every word, and there
-were doubtless dictaphones as well. But the two minutes were running
-out and there would not be a second visit.
-
-"I'll tell you, Tom, there isn't but one thing you can do. I'll have
-to take my medicine, I guess, but I hate like everything to lose them
-trocklebeck hides and horns. The critters is dying off--poisoned by
-pagras. Them danged snakes are all over Mercury. You might not have
-money enough to buy 'em in, but sorta keep track of 'em, won't you?
-They're not worth much now, but they'll be _mighty_ valuable some day.
-There's a man here from Io that'll pay a good price for 'em, ef you can
-find him."
-
-"Time's up," snapped the guard, coming forward.
-
-"All right, you old scalawag," said the phony trader captain, jovially,
-"I'll do my best. But watch your step with that jedge. He's tough."
-
-"I know," said Hank Karns, despondently, and settled his face in his
-hands.
-
-The door slammed and the footsteps withdrew, ringing emptily down the
-metal passage.
-
-Dreary day followed dreary day. Time after time Karns heard footsteps
-ringing in the corridor, and as often he heard the rattle of keys as
-some door was opened and another unfortunate was ordered out to meet
-his doom--the sentence that was to change his state from slow dry rot
-to the swift wet rot of the Swamp. But it was never Karns' door.
-
-Then at last came the day when guards took him to the identical court
-where Wilkerson had been tried. The evidence was brief and to the
-point. He was apprehended trying to sneak into Venus when his clearance
-papers called for Terra as his destination. He had on board eight cases
-of illicit liquor. He had no acceptable explanation. Guilty. Two years
-in the Swamp and the loss of his ship was the sentence. Then they took
-him back to his cell to await the next caravan to the penal camps.
-
-The second stretch of waiting was harder to take than the first, for
-he had placed the enigmatic collector now in his memory. The man was
-Von Kleber, thought to have died many years ago in the uranium mines
-of Sans Esperance. Karns knew him to be a convict from the fact that
-he had grafted new skin on his face and head so that the burns and
-baldness caused by radioactivity would not show. But that he was the
-notorious Von Kleber himself had not occurred to him. And with that
-recognition came the other. Raoul Dement was the man known as Frenchy
-the Hop, vice-president of the Von Kleber ring. It was he who had
-operated the narcotic racket while the big boss turned his attention to
-such other lines as piracy, white-slaving and smuggling in general. If
-such men could flourish unchecked in the well-policed Jovian satellites
-for more than a decade, it was hopeless to expect to dislodge them from
-their place on corrupt and autonomous Venus.
-
-And so time dragged on and Hank Karns sat, awaiting the day when he
-would be taken away to the Swamp. He wondered apathetically whether he
-would be sent to the same camp where Wilkerson and Hildreth were. But
-at last there came a day when footsteps rang again in the corridors and
-he heard doors being opened and men taken away. Finally men stopped
-before his own cell and called him forth. Between two soldiers they
-marched him away.
-
-To his surprise they took him first to the street, where three sedan
-chairs were waiting. The guards very politely indicated that Karns was
-to get in the middle one and they took the others. Hank clambered in
-and they set off. Shortly they drew up before the courthouse.
-
-He was met inside by a tall, slender man of nearly his own age who wore
-the uniform of Chief Inspector of the Interplanetary F.B.I.
-
-"How are you, Captain?" he said cheerily. "Sorry you had such a long
-stay in jail, but we'll try to make that up to you. Come in here and
-let me show you something?"
-
-Hank Karns looked at the inspector in amazement. He was Frank Haynes,
-the man who had broken the Von Kleber case years before. There had been
-a time when they worked closely together on the information that Karns
-furnished when he was released from Sans Esperance. He said nothing in
-reply, though, as Haynes was leading the way into the courtroom. In the
-dock were two baldheaded prisoners--Von Kleber, erstwhile Collector
-of the Port, and Mr. Dement, manager of the Mercurian drug works. The
-judge was a new one--a judge who looked like a judge should look.
-
-"There they are, thanks to you," said Haynes, pointing. "Two as clever
-criminals as ever plagued the system. We've been a long time catching
-them. But their career is over now.
-
-"Our local operative, known as Brown to you, has been trying for months
-to locate the source of the trilobaine flood but without avail. The
-Venusian authorities blocked him at every turn but there was nothing
-we could do about that unless we could hang a Federal offense on
-them. It was you who did that for us. I am very glad I gave you that
-identification ring after our cleanup on Callisto and the list of
-the secret addresses of our agents. I felt then that you were a man
-of discretion and would not abuse its privileges and today I most
-certainly am more than justified. When I interviewed you in your
-cell...."
-
-"You!"
-
-Inspector Haynes grinned at Hank's surprise.
-
-"Pretty effective disguise, eh? Well, as I was about to say--you gave
-me all the tips that were needed. First of all, your mention of the
-scourge of pagras told me it was trilobaine you had aboard, for that is
-a distillation of pagra venom. That gave us jurisdiction. I attended
-the secret auction and tried to bid. Everything in the ship went for a
-song to Von Kleber's pals, but when I went to bid on the trocklebeck
-hides I ran into stiff opposition. They were not to be had at any
-price. So I stopped bidding.
-
-"Our operatives trailed those hides through five sets of owners before
-we came to the Collector himself. Early this morning we made our raid
-and took in all their supplies of drugs and twenty-five of their
-peddlers. Previously we had raided Mercury and those men came in about
-an hour ago. They had quite a thriving little business, and why we
-didn't think of their method of smuggling in the trilobaine before this
-I'll never know. We knew, of course, that it must be coming in the
-ships that they confiscated. That much we were sure of. But we couldn't
-prove a damn thing until we knew _how_. Thanks to you, the ring is
-busted now, and we can do something for those poor devils who were
-innocently duped into being carriers of the drug. Runners have already
-been sent to the Swamp to bring back your friends. And there you are.
-You'll find your old _Swapper_ in the Yard, completely overhauled and
-stocked to the gunwales with grade A trade goods."
-
-Hank Karns, trader, tugged at his grizzled beard and looked rather
-sheepishly at the floor.
-
-"Dag it all," he said "that's fine enough. But gosh, I sure hated to
-make a damfool of myself in front of everybody thataway."
-
-Inspector Haynes broke into laughter and crossed over and slapped him
-on the back.
-
-"You old liar. You loved it!"
-
-
-
-
-
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