It was sheer luck that Pierre Marimbert had located them so soon. Had his routine check taken place in some other section of the vast tree development, he would have found nothing untoward. "This isn't nearly so bad as I had expected," Johnny growled. He was scowling thoughtfully. "What's the matter?" Pierre said. "I just don't get it," Johnny said. "Number one, nomads don't carry dynamite, unless it's been deliberately given them. Two, if it was given them by someone with a purpose, why only enough to blow twenty-five pumps? That isn't a drop in the bucket. A few thousand trees are all we'll lose. Three, where did they come from? Where are their tracks? And where have they gone? This job wasn't done so very long ago, probably within a week or two at most." "How do you know that?" "Otherwise those trees affected would already be dying. At their age, they couldn't stand the sun long without water." Pierre said, his face registering disbelief, "Do you think it could be simple vandalism on the part of a small band of Tuareg?" "Sure, if the pumps had been destroyed by hand. But with explosives? Even if your band of Tuareg did have explosives they wouldn't waste them on a few Sahara Reforestation Commission pumps." "This whole thing just doesn't make sense," Pierre Marimbert decided. "Let's land and take a look at one of those pumps," Johnny said. "You know, if you get the whole crew to work on this you might be able to replace them before we lose any of these transplants. It's all according to how long ago they were destroyed." IV Back at Bidon Cinq again that afternoon, Johnny McCord was greeted by the native office assistant he'd left in charge while all three of the officers were gone. Mellor, at the Tissalit base, had made several attempts to get in touch with him. "Mellor!" Pierre grunted. "How do you Americans say it? Stuffed shirt!" "Yeah," Johnny McCord said, sitting down to the telephone. "But my boss." While Pierre was fishing two cans of beer from the refrigerator, Johnny dialed Tissalit. Kate's face lit up the screen. Johnny said, "Hi. I understand the old man wants to talk to me." "That's right," the girl said, and moved a switch. "Just a minute, Johnny." Her face faded to be replaced by that of Mellor. Johnny noted that as usual the other wore a business suit, complete with white shirt and tie--in the middle of the Sahara! Mellor was scowling. "Where've you been, McCord?" "Checking some pumps near In Ziza," Johnny said evenly. "Leaving no one at all at camp?" the other said. Johnny said, "There were at least a score of men here, Mr. Mellor." "No officers. Suppose an emergency came up?"