_Yes and no; perhaps and perhaps not; pardon me; I agree with everything you say. Yes and no; perhaps and perhaps not; pardon me; I agree..._ _DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ _After seven years on New Texas, Ambassador Godwinson was recalled; adjudged hopelessly insane._ And then: _FINAL MESSAGE OF THE THIRD SOLAR LEAGUE AMBASSADOR TO NEW TEXAS R. F. GULLIS_ _I find it very pleasant to inform you that when you are reading this, I will be dead._ _DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ _Committed suicide after six months on New Texas._ I turned to the last page cautiously, found: _FINAL MESSAGE OF THE FOURTH SOLAR LEAGUE AMBASSADOR TO NEW TEXAS SILAS CUMSHAW_ _I came to this planet ten years ago as a man of pronounced and outspoken convictions. I have managed to keep myself alive here by becoming an inoffensive nonentity. If I continue in this course, it will be only at the cost of my self-respect. Beginning tonight, I am going to state and maintain positive opinions on the relation between this planet and the Solar League._ _DEPARTMENT ADDENDUM_ _Murdered at the home of Andrew J. Hickcock. (see p. 1.)_ And that was the end of the first notebook. Nice, cheerful reading; complete, solid briefing. I was, frankly, almost afraid to open the second notebook. I hefted it cautiously at first, saw that it contained only about as many pages as the first and that those pages were sealed with a band around them. I took a quick peek, read the words on the band: _Before reading, open the sealed trunk which has been included with your luggage._ So I laid aside the book and dragged out the sealed trunk, hesitated, then opened it. Nothing shocked me more than to find the trunk ... full of clothes. There were four pairs of trousers, light blue, dark blue, gray and black, with wide cuffs at the bottoms. There were six or eight shirts, their colors running the entire spectrum in the most violent shades. There were a couple of vests. There were two pairs of short boots with high heels and fancy leather-working, and a couple of hats with four-inch brims. And there was a wide leather belt, practically a leather corset. I stared at the belt, wondering if I was really seeing what was in front of me. Attached to the belt were a pair of pistols in right- and left-hand holsters. The pistols were seven-mm Krupp-Tatta Ultraspeed automatics, and the holsters were the spring-ejection, quick-draw holsters which were the secret of the State Department Special Services. _This must be a mistake_, I thought. _I'm an Ambassador now and Ambassadors never carry weapons._ The sanctity of an Ambassador's person not only made the carrying of weapons unnecessary, so that an armed Ambassador was a contradiction of diplomatic terms, but it would be an outrageous insult to the nation to which he had been accredited. Like taking a poison-taster to a friendly dinner. Maybe I was supposed to give the belt and the holsters to Hoddy Ringo....