He poised his pencil expectantly, his eyes vaguely eager and excited. "We-e-ell, let me see--" Grossman stroked a sleek, fleshy jaw--"I heard one the other day about--Yes? What is it, Grushl?" A Titanian had pressed open the door of the factor's private office. He glanced at the guests nervously. "If you please, sir--the Thing-that-Grows! It has broken its--" "_That will do!_" Grossman's voice crackled like the snap of a bulldozer's whip. He rose hastily, bowed apology to his visitors. "If you will excuse me a moment--" He strode to the door, propelled his underling out of sight and hearing. The three guests stared after him in astonishment. "Well!" exclaimed Lynn Graham. "Whatever came over him so quickly? Why, he turned positively pale!" "You're telling me?" grunted Bud. "He looked like he seen his grandmother's ghost ... or his own. What did that guy say? 'Thing-that-Grows'? What would _that_ be? And what would it break?" "Shhh!" warned Rocky. "He's coming back.... Ah, there Factor! Everything all right?" * * * * * Grossman had been gone but a few seconds, but in that time a change had come over him. His eyes were dark with ... Rocky could not tell just what. Excitement? Or fear? A thin film of perspiration overspread his cheeks, his forehead, his upper lip. He tried to put reassurance into his voice, but the effort didn't quite jell. "Quite all right, Doctor. A little trouble with ... with a small horticultural experiment we are conducting. But I'm afraid I must ask you to leave now. I have work to do." Rocky said, "If I ... er ... can be of any help--?" "No. Thank you very much, but this is work of an ... er ... experimental nature. Company business, you know." The Factor bustled them to the door. "We will meet again. Good afternoon." And almost before they had stammered their confused farewells, he had waved to them and lumbered off. "Well!" said Lynn. "I must say that's the quickest brush-off I ever got ... if not the smoothest." "Horticultural experiment," mused Rocky. "Mmm-hmmm! It's possible, of course, but ... I wonder. Bud ... er ... I mean, Ambrose--" "Yeah?" said Ambrose. "I think I'll stay here in New Boston for a few more hours. I'd like to ... er ... study the native quarters. Perhaps you would be kind enough to escort Miss Graham back to the Fort?" "Certainly," nodded Bud. "A pleasure. But--" Lynn Graham had been staring from one to the other of the two men querulously. Now she declared herself. "Oh, no!" she stated flatly. "You don't get rid of _me_ so easily as all that. Doctor Roswell--just what's going on here?" Rocky fumbled for his glasses. "Er ... going on, Miss Graham? I don't understand--"