"You got in a fight. Fortunately Sam, here, got you out." Elliot looked at his benefactor. "Thanks, pal." Sam shrugged morosely. The fat man steepled his fingers and leaned forward solicitously. "Tell me--aren't you the Daniel Elliot who cracked up a spaceship in the jungles five years ago?" "That's me," Elliot said. The fat man nodded. "Mr. Elliot, I understand that you were near the Venusian Temple of Light--that you actually saw the Dragonbird with your own eyes. Can you tell me if the thing is a robot or is it actually alive?" Elliot grinned. He had seen the fabulous bird from the jungle, hidden from the Venusian priests who worshipped it, but even at a distance he could tell the thing was alive. No robot could have moved with such sinuous grace. "It's real," he said. The fat man smiled unpleasantly. "I had hoped so, Mr. Elliot. I want that bird. You're the only one who can lead me to it." Elliot rose to his feet and glared at the fat man. "Not me, mister. I don't like the jungle--and I don't like the idea of taking the Venusian's pet god, either." The fat man's eyes grew hard. "Do you know who I am?" Elliot shook his head. It was a mistake; his neck was still sore from the clobbering earlier, and the pain made him wince. "You're talking to Housten Blayne," Sam said. Elliot stared silently. He knew Housten Blayne. Blayne was the Venusian Commissioner for the Interplanetary Trade Board. "You were in a brawl in a tavern, Mr. Elliot," said Blayne mildly. "I could revoke your pilot's papers for that. It might even appear that you were--ah--intoxicated when you smashed up the _Space Needle_. Naturally we couldn't let you take off in the _Space Needle II_, could we?" Elliot saw the picture then. The fight in the bar had been staged. Blayne had shrewdly framed him in order to get him to lead him to the Dragonbird. And the fat man could do everything he said he would. Elliot was in his pocket. "All right, Blayne," Elliot said stiffly. "When do we start?" "Tuesday," Blayne said. "And I'd better warn you, Elliot, that we must protect each other. If I don't come back from this trip, certain papers in my safe would make things very difficult for you. If we make it, however, you will be well paid." "What does that mean?" Blayne smiled. "I believe ten thousand credits will be sufficient. That is, of course, if we actually _get_ the Dragonbird." * * * * * They started the next day from North Venus City, Blayne and Elliot. Sam followed them as far as the boundary line, then waved and turned back. The first few days of the journey weren't too bad. The little jeep went over the mossy undergrowth almost as though a road had been built for it. It was, Elliot reflected, a hell of a lot better way to travel than slogging through the Venusian jungle on foot. In four days, they covered the same ground that had taken Elliot five weeks when he'd cracked up his ship several hundred miles to the south.