insane."

"You don't seem to understand, Marks," I told him. "There was no other way of getting a zloor on board an earth bound rocket, so I made pets of a couple of them. They love peach pits—regular delicacy for them." I added reflectively. "You'd be surprised how well trained I've got Frankie and Johnny; I'll hate to give them up."

I tapped the ash of the cigar off on his heavy carpet and said, "However, business is business. Let's see, by our contract you owe me five credits for each month I've been gone, plus a seven hundred credit bonus for bringing back two live zloors, then there's that thousand credit wager we made."

He snapped on his inter-office communicator and growled instructions to his secretary to find whether or not I had brought back two live zloors in the Mars rocket. We sat there silently while she checked. I puffed on the cigar with appreciation and dropped the ashes, pointedly, on the floor. He was irritated, but wouldn't give me the satisfaction of complaining.

I knew I was being childish, but I loved it.

The inter-office communicator buzzed and he listened to his secretary's report, then reached down into his desk for a checkbook.

He said while he was writing it, "I'm sure you'll be pleased to know, Prescott, that in spite of this sum I'm giving you, I'll still make a considerable profit on this deal."

I took the check and examined it carefully.

"Ummm," I told him. "But I wouldn't be very surprised if a good deal of that profit is going to be melting away."

"Eh? What do you mean?" he snapped.

I told him, "The other boys up on Mars are still well equipped with peach pits. They're all making pets too. The next few rockets from Mars are going to be loaded with zloors, Westley, old man. You're going to have a flock of bets to pay off—and, besides that, I'm wondering if the government is going to want that many zloors. As I understand it, two is all that they contracted for with you. Of course, you'll have to pay the boys for them—"

He didn't say anything as I left, fanning the check to dry it, but he looked as though he'd met his Waterloo.

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