"Looking for buried treasure wasn't in the contract," Rene pointed out. "You'll have to make it worth my while." "Another five thousand," I said. "Make it ten. Payable if I find it." "Suppose _I_ find it?" "Don't be ridiculous. You'd be a fool to take two steps on this planet without me." He was right, of course. And if we left, I wouldn't get anything. I thought of Mother living by the bells at a Comfort Park. "All right," I said. "What form was his fortune in?" Rene asked. "Money? Bonds? Polarian droplets? It would help to know what I'm looking for." "I have no idea," I confessed. "Ordinarily it would take a computer to figure out Uncle Isadore's financial affairs. But he'd have been perfectly capable of selling out everything and taking his entire fortune along with him for some new project." Rene had skillfully unscrewed the instrument panel and he lifted it off and began poking inside and removing mysterious bits of machinery. "That makes it harder. You don't know whether he sold out or not?" "I have no idea. He might have all his money piled in the locker of the Whist Club of Sirius beta. In that case, we look for a key. Or he might have a block of Eretrevium buried somewhere. Your guess is as good as mine." "If he's dug up the ground," Rene said, "I'll recognize the spot. But that'll mean walking over every inch of ground for a day's journey around. Or more, if he did any overnight traveling." "Not Uncle Izzy," I said. "He wouldn't be at all likely to spend a freezing night out on Alvarla, even for a good joke." "Radar equipment's in perfect shape," Rene said, shifting his activities to another segment of the ship's equipment. "I wonder why he didn't leave it on so we could locate him easier. Not that we had any trouble. Or why he didn't continue broadcasting for help until he died.... Mind if I take some of the equipment?" "You haven't been exactly generous with me." "I intend to subtract its value from the cost of supplies and mileage on my ship. I never said I was generous, but, by God, I'm honest." * * * * * Rene slid out the compartment of lunch packages, dumped them on the floor. "All unopened," he was saying disgustedly. Then he picked up a heavy, square object with sharp corners, open on three sides. "What the hell is this?" "A book," I informed him. Rene opened it "Hey! A real, antique book! Must be worth at least a thousand! Look at the _size_ of that print! You can read it with the naked eye, like an instrument panel! Well, here's a little piece of your fortune." He tossed it to me and went on examining the lunch packages. He didn't trust me to help him because _I_ wouldn't be able to tell if they'd been opened and something inserted. I hung the book by the covers and let the pages flip open. Nothing fell out. I sighed. I'd have to go through the whole damn thing. "I'm going back to your ship and read in comfort," I told Rene.