Colonel Travers' inspection of the food-supply was perfunctory. It needed not be otherwise. One glance sufficed to show that there was in the Wilkes household enough food to nourish a dozen families for as many months. And there was a smile of grim satisfaction on his lips as, turning to his aide, he said, "Very well, Lieutenant. You may make a notation that the Wilkes household has been inspected and found satisfactory in all respects." He looked at Wade purposefully and repeated in a firm tone. "In _all_ respects!" * * * * * Ah, he was no dummy, that Colonel. Bobby had seen the twinkle in his eye as he glanced into the preserve closet. Because, shucks! there wasn't any mistaking Mom's way of doing up preserves. With little red bands around each jar, and her firm, crabbed handwriting telling what was inside. "In all respects!" he said again. And reached for Sam Wilkes' pudgy paw. "Congratulations, Sir! You've earned possession of the planetoid Eros. Your power-plant is among the finest it has ever been my pleasure to view; you have undeniably cleared and planted the required number of acres, your food supply is well above the minimum requirements--" "But see here!" Wade's face was an ugly red. "I'm not satisfied, Colonel. There's something fishy about this. The farmlands we inspected were barely out of the seed stage. The corn was only knee high, the vegetables mere sprouts. These people couldn't have raised all this produce--" Sam Wilkes spluttered helplessly, "Why I--I--" And Pop came to his rescue. Smoothly. Suavely. "But he did, Mr. Wade. On the farmlands across the river. Those are the early crops; the ones you've just seen are the late harvest." "But--but you claimed those were _your_ crops!" "Did I?" Pop stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well, maybe I was bragging a little. You see, I've been working for Mr. Wilkes. A sort of share-cropper, you might say." "Now I get it!" howled the angry scout. "I thought so. It's skullduggery, that's what it is! Don't you see, Colonel? These men are conspiring to defraud us. To cheat the Corporation. Moseley had deliberately given his crops and food-supply to Wilkes--" There was again a twinkle in the Colonel's eye. He said, soberly, "And suppose you're right, Wade? What then? There's no law against a man giving away his possessions to another man, is there? "As an inspector for the Solar Space Patrol, my only interest is in seeing that a settler's domain fulfills the requirements of the Squatter's Rights Code. Mr. Wilkes has fulfilled those requirements. I am not interested in the how or why. Therefore, under the power invested in me by the Triune Planetary Government, I hereby decide and award--" And then a crafty brilliance illumined Wade's eyes. "Stop!" he cried. Colonel Travers hesitated. "Pardon, Mr. Wade?"