Chessman said desperately, "Look, Barry, Natt, if you have to, shoot me. At least give me a man's death. Remember those human sacrifices the Tulans had when we first arrived? Can you imagine what went on in those temples? Barry, Dick--for old time's sake, boys ..." Barry Watson said to Taller, "He's yours. If this doesn't take the pressure off us, nothing will." X. At the end of the third decade, the Texcocan delegation was already seated in the _Pedagogue's_ lounge when Jerome Kennedy, Martin Gunther, Peter MacDonald, Fredric Buchwald and three Genoese, Baron Leonar and the Honorables Russ and Modrin appeared. The Texcocan group consisted of Barry Watson, Dick Hawkins and Natt Roberts to one side of him, Generalissimo Taller and six highly bemedaled Texcocans on the other. Before taking a seat Barry Watson barked, "Where's Amschel Mayer? I've got some important points to cover with him." "Take it easy," Kennedy slurred. "For that matter, where's Joe Chessman?" Watson glared at the other. "You know where he is." "That I do," Kennedy said. "He's purged, to use a term of yesteryear. At the rate you laddy-bucks are going, there won't be anything left of you by the time our half century is up." He snapped his fingers and a Genoese servant who'd been inconspicuously in the background, hurried to his side. "Let's have some refreshments here. What'll everybody have?" "You act as though you've had enough already," Watson bit out. Kennedy ignored him, insisted on everyone being served before he allowed the conversation to turn serious. Then he said, slyly, "I see we've been successful in apprehending all of your agents, or you'd know more of our affairs." "Not all our agents," Watson barked. "Only those on your southern continent. What happened to Amschel Mayer?" Peter MacDonald, who, with Buchwald, was for the first time attending one of the decade-end conferences, had been hardly recognized in his new girth by the Texcocan team. But his added weight had evidently done nothing to his keenness of mind. He said smoothly, "Our good Amschel is under arrest. Imprisoned, in fact." He shook his head, his double chin wobbling. "A tragedy." "Imprisoned! By whom?" Taller scowled. "I don't like this. After all, he was your expedition's head man." Barry Watson rapped, "Don't leave us there, MacDonald. What happened to him?" MacDonald explained. "The financial and industrial empire he had built was overextended. A small crisis and it collapsed. Thousands of investors suffered. In brief, he was arrested and found guilty." Watson was unbelieving. "There is nothing you could do? The whole team! Couldn't you bribe him out? Rescue him by force and get him back to the ship? With all the wealth you characters control--" Jerry Kennedy laughed shortly. "We were busy bailing ourselves out of our own situations, Watson. You don't know what international finance can be. Besides, he dug his grave ... uh ... that is, he made his bed."