"Why not?" She turned to the door. "I will still write my articles. It's my word or yours." Derek grinned at her. "I think I could fall in love with you, honey," he said. "Life would provide few dull moments. However, you didn't notice how nice and automated this office is. Card machines, electric typewriters, all the latest--including tape recorders for office conversations. You talked too much, honey." "_Cochon!_" she shrilled at him. She whirled and was through the door. Johnny turned to Mohammed Mohmoud. "I guess the best thing for you would be to turn in your commission, Captain." Dark eyes snapped. "And if I say no?" Johnny shook his head. "The Mali Federation passed some awfully strict laws when it was drawing up its constitution. Among them was one involving capital punishment for anyone destroying a source of water in the desert. Miss Desage did the actual work but you were hand in glove with her. I'd hate to have to report that to your superiors." Derek jumped forward quickly. His hand snaked out and chopped the other's forearm. The heavy military pistol fell to the floor, and the Canadian kicked it to one side. "Shucks," he drawled, "the hired hand sure is tricky, ain't he?" "Good Lord," Johnny McCord said disgustedly, "I didn't say I was going to report you. Just threatened to if you didn't resign. Now get out of here, we've got work to do. I'm three days behind on my reports!" End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Farmer, by Mack Reynolds