Barnard entered. Thoughtfully, he studied the reporter and folded his hands.

Barnard faced him. "Quong Kee. You and George Melvin were partners at one time."

Quong Kee gazed back coolly, and Barnard saw that he'd learn only what the man decided he should know. After a while Quong Kee nodded.

"Yes—Mr. Barnard. George Melvin was—and is—my partner."

"How did you know me?" Barnard demanded. "You never leave this room."

A tired smile flickered over the thin lips. "Earlier this evening I watched Miss Melvin extricate you from a difficult position. Until she informed me that you were seeking news, I never realized that journalism involved such jeopardy."

Barnard grinned involuntarily. He was beginning to like this Oriental who spoke in cultured tones. Since he realized that threats or bribes would do no good, he gave in to the impulsive liking.

"Mind telling me something about Gail Melvin?" he asked. "And about things in general?"

Quong Kee peered narrowly at Barnard through half-closed eyes. The reporter wondered uncomfortably if the man used neoin and was studying him with extra sensory faculties, but he swiftly rejected the thought. There was no trace of the drug in Quong Kee's appearance. Maybe it was natural ESP—or just an old-fashioned sizing-up.

"You are very anxious to secure this—scoop, aren't you, Mr. Barnard?"

Barnard thrust his face closer. "Quong Kee," he said slowly, "I would give my right arm to break this story. I would cut every throat on Mars if it would help me to find out where neoin comes from."

He meant it—almost, anyway. Somehow the thought of cutting Gail Melvin's throat persisted. He forced the thought back. No price was too high!

"I, too, would give much to destroy the drug traffic," Quong Kee said softly. "George Melvin and I operated an establishment in Lidice, Venus—until neoin appeared. We were doing excellently. But then George became involved in a crusade against the drug peddlers. He found out some things—I do not know exactly what.

"But he disappeared. And things began to happen to our establishment. Things like bombs, bullets, poison in the food—I was forced to close and 

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