"Please sit down, Mr. Rastol," said Kring. "We have much more to discuss." Rastol moved toward the door. Ylia stepped in front of it. She had a Q-gun in her hand. "I am quite proud of my daughter's marksmanship," said Kring. "She is the equal of any soldier at hitting a target. At short range she never misses by so much as a hair." Rastol sat down. He sipped his drink and appeared to relax. "Be good enough to tell me," he said, "why you think I would be so lacking in a sense of public duty as to reject an assignment to which my government has called me." "The answer is simple," said Kring. "The Murain government is not your government. Your allegiance is to the totalitarian movement." "I think the public record will show the falsehood of that statement," said Rastol. "The trial to which I was so cruelly subjected proved just the opposite. You will recall that the verdict was one of acquittal." "Only," said Kring, "because some witnesses were bribed--and others were murdered." Rastol smiled thinly. "Your proof?" Kring smiled also. "Of that? None, I admit. But we have proof of other things--things without value in a court of law, perhaps, but which may persuade you to retire to private life, for your tranquillity of mind." "Produce them," said Rastol. He was a cool one, Scott had to admit. Then the newsman realized that Kring was looking at him. "Mr. Warren," he said, "if you will be so kind." And he held out his hand. Scott gave him the papers he had brought from the office. He had no idea what bearing they had on the situation now being unfolded. Kring broke the seal on the envelope and opened it. He looked through the news reports--those which had been used and those which hadn't. Finally he found what he was looking for. "You have heard of the Green Arrow," Kring asked Rastol. "Of course. A bandit and outlaw who achieved some notoriety. What of him?" "You may not have heard," said Kring, "that his real name became known. To myself and some others who cared to ask, after it was no longer a guarded secret. His name was Acton...." Kring looked closely at Rastol. The big Martian gave no flicker of recognition. "A not uncommon name," said Rastol. "Acton was the name of your son, was it not?" There was silence in the room. Kring's eyes looked steadily into Rastol's. Ylia stood at the door, her gun no longer pointing at the guest, but down at her side. Toby Black was stopped with a cigarette halfway to his lips. Scott raised a hand to brush away what he thought might be an insect on the back of his neck. There was nothing there; it was part of the tension. Kring spoke again. "Was not Acton the name of your son, and did he not fight against you and the things you stood for?" Rastol's eyes went from one to another in the room. He made no other movement. Even his breathing was not apparent. At length he said: "Yes, Acton was my son." * * * * *