"Excuse me a minute," said Ray, pocketing his winnings. "I'll be back, and then we'll play for real stakes." "You bet," said the sharks. They sat back, lit anticipatory cigars, and waited. And waited. And waited. Ray found the redhead remarkably easy to pry from the colonel. The girl thought it would be just too much fun to go slumming and have the captain's dinner with him in the third-class saloon. He led her down the thrumming corridor, thinking wistfully that before he knew it he'd be in Ganymede City and as broke as he'd been to start with. Urushkidan crawled slowly by, waving an idle tentacle at him. The Martian walking system was awkward under Earth gravity and, their table manners being worse than atrocious, they ate in a separate section. It was Dyann who really started the trouble. She strode up behind Ray and clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Vere have you been?" she asked reproachfully. "You have not been in our cabin for two days and nights now." The redhead blushed. "Oh hullo, Dyann," said Ray, annoyed. "I'll see you later." "Of course you vill." She smiled. "Ah, you dashin' glamorous Earthmen, you make me feel so small and veak." She topped him by a good two inches. They came into the doorway of the saloon and three familiar figures barred Ray's passage. "What the hell became of you, Ballantyne?" demanded one. His geniality was quite gone. "You was going to play some more with us." "I forgot," said Ray huskily. The three men looked bigger than they had, somehow. "It's not sporting to quit when you're so far ahead," said another. "Yeah," said a third. "You ought at least to give us our money back." "I haven't got it," said Ray. "Look, pal, things happen to people that ain't good sports. They ain't very pop-u-lar, and things happen to them. Where's that money?" They crowded in, hemming him against the wall. Beyond them, he could see Colonel Roshevsky-Feldkamp staring coldly at the tableau. Ray wondered if he hadn't put the players up to this. They wouldn't have dared start trouble without some kind of _sub rosa_ official hint. * * * * * "Come on back to our cabin and we'll talk this over, pal." The redhead squeaked and shrank aside. A meaty hand closed on Ray's arm and dragged him half off his feet. Dyann bristled, one hand clapped to her sword. "Are these men annoyin' you, Ray?" she asked. "No, we just want a quiet little private talk with our friend," said one of them. "Just come along easy, Ballantyne." "Dyann, I think they are annoying me," said the engineer, the words rattling in a suddenly dry and tightened throat. "Oh, vell, in that case--" She smiled, reached out, and grabbed a collar. There was a minor explosion. The man catapulted into the air, hit the ceiling, caromed off a wall, and bounced on the floor. Sheer reflex sent knives flying into the hands of the other two.