"Have not caught me. Brought food and water. Ordinance 102 forbids a meal for criminal aliens. Find the tube? Did they give you water?"

"A few sips." I gulped slightly metallic water from the tube extending through the hole she had made in the daubing. Toal shoved something through the crack. So far as I could determine in the darkness, it was meat between slices of bread.

I munched the concoction and mumbled, "Thanks, Toal. You'd best run before the guards find you. If I ever get out, and you need anything, let me know."

Toal said, too loudly for secrecy, "Am happy to help. Do not worry about prison. Several Maximums and Dominants opposed calling an outside hunter. May be why they arrested you."

"Stand still, Betty Toal!" a rough voice cried in the dark.

A chorus added, "Are arrested!"

A screech preceded the sounds of rapid breathing, slaps, tearing cloth, and stamping feet. "Stop it!" I yelled, trying to see through the crack. "She only brought some water!"

"Check the criminal alien!"

Soon the wooden hall floor creaked and rattled. The door rolled up. Lights blinded me. Three striped toothies streaked for their holes.

"Search him and the room," ordered a Dominant, apparently the man who originally arrested me.

"You don't get much sleep, do you?" I asked.

"Silence!" he said. "Ordinance 55: Criminal—"

I took up the refrain. "—aliens shall never speak, unless so ordered."

The Dominant created fuming noises. The guards searched futilely. In frustration, the Dominant said, "Where is the weapon she gave? Speak."

I said, "I have no weapons, but I'd like to tell you how Galactic Government will react when—"

They walked out and rolled down the door. I flopped on the bed and perspired and brooded.

On Henderson's Globe of Spica, I had planned to terminate my present career with this hunt. I had never especially enjoyed the hazards of hunting, which had cost me a hand, much blood, and large areas of skin. Doreen, Laurinda, 

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