Cal ordered for both Tinker and himself. Then he leaned forward on his elbows and gave Tinker the highlights of his life for the past few weeks. He finished with the statement: "It's worthless, but somehow I can't see letting Benj get it." "Worthless? Murdoch's Hoard?" "Shall I go into that again? Look, Tinker. Murdoch's era was prior to the discovery of the matter-duplicator, which followed the Channing-Franks matter transmitter by only a few weeks. Now, anything that Murdoch could cache away would be in currency of that time. The period of duplication hadn't come yet, and the eventual invention or discovery of identium as a medium of exchange had not come. So what good is Murdoch's Hoard? It must be of some value. But what? I could discount everything as ignorance or hatred except Dr. Lange's quick desire for it. Lange is no fool, Tink. He knew what he was getting. Darn it all, I feel like going out and running the Hoard down myself!" Tinker's laugh was genuine and spontaneous. Cal bridled. "Funny? Then tell me why." "You, who hates roistering, adventure, space, and hell-raising. Going after Murdoch's Hoard! That, I want to see." "So that you can laugh at my fumbling attempts?" Tinker sobered. "I've been unkind, Cal. But you are not equipped to make a search like that." "No?" "You, with your quiet disposition and easy-going ways. Yes, Cal, I can be honest with you. Forgive me, but the idea of watching you conduct a wild expedition like that intrigues me," Tinker became serious for a moment. "Besides, I'd like to be there when you open Murdoch's Hoard." "Hm-m-m. Well, it's just an idea." "You'll get right back into your rut, Cal. You don't really intend to do anything about it, do you?" "Well--" "Cal--would you give me the Key?" "What!" "I mean it." "Tinker--what is Murdoch's Hoard?" "Not unless you give me the Key," teased Tinker. "Not a Chinaman's chance," said Cal with finality. "What are you going to do with it?" "I'm going after it myself!" Tinker looked into Cal's face and saw determination there. "I want to go along," she said. "Please?" Cal shook his head. "Nope. I'm not going to have anyone laughing at me. Tell me what it is." "Take me along." Cal thought that one over. The idea of having Tinker Elliott along appealed to him. He'd wanted her for years, and this plea of hers was an admission of surrender. But Cal felt that conditional surrender was not good enough. He didn't like the idea of Tinker's willingness to be bought for a treasure unknown. What was really in the depths of her mind he could not guess--unless she were trying to goad him into making the expedition. "No," he said. "Then you'll never go," she taunted him. "I'll go," he snapped. "And I'll prove that I can take care of myself. I hate space-roving, but I'm big enough to do it despite my distaste. Now will you tell me what Murdoch's Hoard is that it is so valuable?" "Not unless you take me along."