"Neely," he said with a grin, "how can you start beatin', when you ain't done eatin'? Neely--here I am, trying to be friendly and hospitable, and you aren't co-operating. A whole bushel of juicy tomatoes--symbols of civilization way the hell out here in the asteroids--and you haven't even made a dent in 'em yet! What's the matter, Neely? Lose your appetite? Here! Eat!..." Endlich's tone was falsely persuasive. For there was a steely note of command in it. And the blaster in Endlich's hand was pointed straight at Neely's chest. Neely's eyes began to look frightened and sullen. He shifted uncomfortably, and the bushel basket creaked under his weight. "You're yella as any damn pun'kin!" he said loudly. "You don't fight fair!... Guys--what's the matter with you? Get this nut with the blaster offa me!..." "Hmm--yella," Endlich seemed to muse. "Maybe not as yella as you were once--coming around here at night with a whole gang, not so long ago--" "Call _me_ yella?" Nelly hollered. "Why, you lousy damn yokel, if you didn't have that blaster--" Endlich said grimly, "But I got it, friend!" He sent a stream of energy from the blaster right past Neely's head, so close that a shock of the other's hair smoked and curled into black wisps. "And watch your language--my wife and kids can hear you--" Neely's thick shoulders hunched. He ducked nervously, rubbing his head--and for the first time there was a hint of genuine alarm in his voice. "All right," he growled, "all right! Take it easy--" Something deep within John Endlich relaxed--a cold tight knot seemed to unwind--for, at that moment, he knew that Neely was beginning to lose. The big man's evident discomfort and fear were the marks of weakness--to his followers at least; and with them, he could never be a leader, again. Moreover, he had allowed himself to be maneuvered into the position of being the butt of a practical joke, that, by his own code, must be followed up, to its nasty, if interesting, outcome. The spectators began to resemble Romans at the circus, with Neely the victim. And the victim's downfall was tragically swift. "Come on, Neely! You heard what Pun'kins said," somebody yelled. "Jeez--a whole bushel. Let's see how many you can eat, Neely.... Damned if this ain't gonna be rich! Don't let us down, Neely! Nobody's hurtin' yuh. All you have to do is eat--all them nice tamadas.... Hey, Neely--if that bushel ain't enough for you, I'll personally buy you another, at the reg'lar price. Haw-haw-haw.... Lucky Neely! Look at him! Having a swell banquet. Better than if he was home.... Haw-haw-haw.... Come on, Pun'kins--make him eat!..." Yeah, under certain conditions human nature can be pretty fickle. Wonderingly, John Endlich felt himself to be respected--the Top Man. The guy who had shown courage and ingenuity, and was winning, by the harsh code of men who had been roughened and soured by space--by life among the asteroids. * * * * *