But it turned out to be anything but a celebration. Horseface rushed Elmer into the community stable, unhooked the saddle-bags, dropped the stall-bar, and ran toward Trixie's place, "The Pride of Terra". Every man in the camp was waiting at the door, and waiting vociferously. The comments mingled into an indistinguishable babble. A few miners were loitering around the rocket, a small two-seater, like mice cagily inspecting a new and baffling trap. Horseface recognized it by the device emblazoned on one of its doors--a yellow sunburst on a grey square, the insignia of United Mars. The rocket belonged to Thurd Goreck, the Martian. Goreck hadn't been in town for years. He and his fellows had their diggings over at Saturday Wells, "Saturday" for short, in the west. What, Horseface wondered, possibly could have brought him here? Since Horseface was a little below average height, he couldn't see over the heads of the crowd. He raced up the steps of an old ruin opposite Trixie's establishment. A shrieking beam from a blast-gun fired at random just missed him and scorched the wood overhead. He heard Trixie's bark: "Stop it, boys, do you hear me? Somebody's likely to get hurt!" She was standing in her doorway, a big sculpturesque woman with her feet planted solidly wide and her red fists on her broad hips. Her face was square and rough-hewn as a man's, the skin leathery from years of weathering. She'd thrown her blue lace scarf around her shoulders, the scarf that Mike O'Neill had given her on their first anniversary. Her crystal earrings dangled under her cottony hair--a bad sign. Trixie never put on her shawl and earrings unless thinking of leaving town. Thurd Goreck lounged against the door-frame beside her. Like most Martians, he was tall and spindle-legged, large-chested, big-nosed and equipped with almost elephantine ears. He displayed quite a paternal solicitude whenever he looked at Trixie, but he sneered openly at the yelping crowd. "Don't do it, Trix!" somebody roared above the din. "You'll be sorry!" another warned. Still another wanted to know, "Have you forgotten Mike?" Then Horseface noticed that the other Martians from Goreck's settlement were ranged on either side of Trixie and Goreck, holding off the Finchburgers. It was they who were doing most of the firing--warning blasts over the crowd's heads. "No," Trixie yelled, "I ain't forgotten Mike. He was a better man than the lot of you put together!" Horseface whistled to Candy Derain, who turned and edged toward him. "What's up, Candy?" "Man!" Candy reached at him. "You're just the one we need--Trixie's running away! You got to do something quick!" "She's--huh?" "Goreck's been lazing around town almost ever since you went out nugget hunting. He's taking Trixie to Saturday--going to set her up there in a new place. He was smart and waited till you weren't around, 'cause he knows you cut a lot of ice with Trix. You got to stop her--"