And on he raced, through the bright afternoon sunlight, ever adding to his pile of loot. Galactics clustered behind him, talking to one another, in wondering, unbelieving tones. But Wan Nes Stan, his lust to strive for power denied him, retreated within himself and substituted the childlike desire for glittering, beckoning things of jewel and credit. Denied even the chance to steal in this world where all was his for the asking, Wan Nes Stan returned to his youth and snatched things that had once been of value to himself and to those about him. Worthless baubles! But still he ran, clutching here and there and ever adding to his collection of gaudy junk. And the final straw came when the Galactics, having no desire to be jostled or beaten, lined the broad sidewalk and quietly unfastened ornaments from jumper or dress or wrist or finger and held it out to Wan Nes Stan as he ran by. "--I take!" he screamed, and then the scream became a whimper; they took from him the last pleasure of forcing them to part with the baubles and it broke him. He threw the baubles to the ground. One of the Galactics stooped and scooped them into the handbag and offered it to him. "I take," he blubbered, and as he saw the proffered bag, his hysteria broke and tears started from his eyes. His mouth pouted and he blubbered and cried like a whipped child. Sobs, deep and lung-shaking gripped his powerful frame and his utter lack of control extended to his motor nerves and he slumped like a rag doll. Broken in spirit, Wan Nes Stan moved forward through the encircling crowd and left them wondering. They did not follow. Tears streamed down his contorted face and his steps--laggard and weak--were dotted with drops of moisture as he made his broken way to his office. He entered wearily, and sat down. "Wan Nes Stan--megalomaniac!" he said bitterly. He turned at the sound of a step and saw Len Dor Vale watching him. "Broken," he said. Len Dor Vale fixed the other man with a piercing gaze. "Sorry," he said. "Quite sorry. But it can not be done that way, you know. The whole proposition was your idea." "I know," said the other man. He inspected Len Dor Vale's large, well-proportioned frame, his strong features, and his absolute poise and wondered how any man, with all to recommend him, could be so utterly unsympathetic. The coldness in his face set him apart from one of the Galactic Ones. "The proposition was sensible enough, yet I failed. Even though I failed, my manipulations were properly done, you will agree." Len Dor Vale nodded. "Where did I fail?" "You struck a snag." "It was not my fault." "Are you crawling?" snapped Len Dor Vale. "Perhaps," said Wan Nes Stan bitterly. "I want to know how I failed." Len Dor Vale smiled deprecatorily. "Wan Nes Stan, you failed because you neglected to take everything into account. Before you can succeed--before you can hope to plan without failure, you must learn to take everything into account."