Enlightened intelligences can feel only contempt for that debasing emotion, pity, the virtues of which Henry so often tried to impress upon us. It results in perpetuating types that retard the race. The thinkers bred and trained it out of us ages ago. Yet now, as I gazed at Henry, jerking along awkwardly beside me, resembling a moving slat split half-way up, his non-luminous eyes moist with ecstatic anticipation, I experienced a pure wish without rational source or consequences. I wanted to help him because he coveted so passionately the empty and purely selfish triumph he anticipated. Perhaps something in that heavy atmosphere aroused resistance in the lower nerve-levels--a friction generating that deceptive warmth. I felt what must have been pity! Henry's next words enhanced it. "Just wait till I tell them!" he exulted. "What they did for that bird that flew across the Atlantic--what was his name? Oh, Lindbergh! That won't be a circumstance to what they'll do for me. I tell you I'll have a king's welcome!" "Do you think that?" I inquired as we moved along a crudely paved highway, low, rocky cliffs on either hand. "Or do you only hope for it?" In Henry, feeling characteristically blazed into resentment, another useless emotion long ago bred out of us. "Listen," he said peevishly; "these are my people. I'll be teaching you from now on, and you've got plenty to learn, I'm telling you." I was busy extracting from my instrument carrier my memory sounder. I concentrated upon tuning it to vibrations of eighteen of Henry's years before. "That may be true," I replied after a few responses. "I came with you to be taught. Nevertheless, you are going to need quite a bit of help." "Not on your life!" Henry's tone grew more boastful. "You're going to be hollering for help from your Uncle Dudley before we're here much longer." "Wait!" I commanded, pitching my voice to the tone level that Henry, however unwillingly, was always compelled to obey. My strange weakness dropped from me. I turned away and drew from my instrument carrier my distance control and focussed the levitator ray upon the ship far up the now invisible mountain slope. I made sure that the control functioned and set it at stationary. Finally I turned upon the ship the G-ray, this time at full strength. "I am ready to witness your 'king's welcome'," I told Henry. It is fortunate that the structure of Henry's brain renders it impossible for him to read a memory sounder, else he might have foreseen, as I did, his little comedy working itself out to the denouement that, without my interference, was inevitable. Yet, at the last, I did interfere a little, but only to hasten the outcome and shorten our useless stay. Henry halted and waved his hand. "Look! Ain't that a sight for the sore eyes now?" He exhaled noisily. "Grand!" he muttered. "God's own country!"