"And you put up with this kind of treatment?" Surprise sounded in Early's voice. He studied Sanderson carefully as if he were re-evaluating him.

Again Sanderson nodded.

"Well, I'm damned!" Early said. "John Sanderson putting up with this! John Sanderson letting a local Martian big shot tell him what to do! Oh, I get it now." Again understanding gleamed in Early's eyes. "You've lost, your nerve! That's it. Johnny Sanderson has gone soft." Early seemed very pleased with himself for this computation.

The silence that followed was broken by a grunt of contempt from L'Sor. "Give the fool a thlat and send him on his way. We don't want him here."

Early seemed not to hear. "Hah! By heck! So you've lost your nerve! And Sandersonville is hanging here like a ripe peach ready to drop into the pocket of anybody who has the guts to shake the tree! I heard rumors that this had happened but I just didn't believe it."

He pulled an object from his pocket. It was a bum-bum gun. Sanderson seemed not to see it. L'Sor grunted contemptuously. Miss Tweedham caught her breath. Early moved toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Sanderson said.

"I'm going up and put the fix on this Malovel," Early said. "Then I'm coming back down here and I'm taking over Sandersonville. Johnny Sanderson has lost his nerve and he's through." He stalked through the door.

Through the window, Sanderson watched him go quickly up the slope. In this light gravity, the man walked rapidly. He was soon out of sight. L'Sor and Miss Tweedham moved to Sanderson's side at the window.

"You deliberately needled him into going up there," Miss Tweedham spoke.

"Why should I do that?"

"Maybe because you're scared to go yourself." Her voice had a cutting edge that grated along Sanderson's nerves. Beside him, he heard L'Sor's sharply indrawn breath, a sure sign of rising anger in the Martian.

"Why don't you go to this ruler and demand water?" The schoolteacher continued. "You're the leader here. Are you going to let your people starve?"

Sanderson wiped a thin film of sweat from his face. "Nobody has starved yet."

"How long before 'yet' becomes 'Died of 

 Prev. P 3/16 next