Whitter and Dilon were practically on his heels. A look inside showed that the Director was not quite correct: the capsule wasn't absolutely empty. Inside there was a single sheet of paper; printed on one side was the following message: _Gentlemen_: _I'm sure that the late R. Philipp Dachboden appreciates the trouble you have gone to. If it wasn't successful, don't blame yourselves; you tried._ _As for the statue and various other_ objets d'art, _I'm afraid they are now_ _Respectfully mine, Leland Hale._ * * * * * A short time previous to the flamboyant opening of the capsule in Grosstat, and several hundred miles away, His Excellency, Hinrik Fonshliezen, State Portfolio of Sudapfahl, sat nervously in his office. If the I.P. men were sweating, Fonshliezen was absolutely soaked in his own juices. He sat at his desk, looking from his watch to the telephone and back again. He was expecting a call. Even so, when the phone rang, he jumped. Then he grabbed the instrument. "Hello! Fonshliezen here!" he barked hoarsely. "Hinrik, old spirillum, I have your merchandise. You know where to meet me. And--ah--remember what I told you." "You got it? Where have you been? You've been gone for two days! What--" "That's none of your business, Hinrik; just come on. And remember--none of your clever foxiness." "I'll remember," Hinrik said. There was a click as the instrument was hung up. Hinrik Fonshliezen frowned worriedly and glanced at the briefcase on his desk that held half a million stellors in Interstellar Bank drafts. How could he be sure that Hale actually had the carving? He glanced at his watch again. The news should come through soon. Hale had told him to wait for the news from Nordapfahl. He was well prepared for any tricks on Hale's part. He had put a special lock on the briefcase; if Hale just tried to take the money, it would be too bad for Hale. On the other hand, Hinrik Fonshliezen was well aware that he, himself had better not try anything foolish. If Hale were killed or reported to the police--in other words, if he didn't make a clean getaway--certain audio-video recordings would go to the I.P., disclosing Hinrik's complicity in the deal. The whole thing had to be on the up-and-up. The phone rang again. His Excellency picked it up and identified himself. He listened. A broad, wolfish smile spread itself over his face. "So Hale actually did it?" he said. "Well, that's too bad, my dear fellow. Of course, we must take the utmost precautions ourselves." He hung up, and, whistling softly to himself, he picked up the briefcase and left his office. * * * * *