Nearing Saturn, Flint's eye was pressed against the filterscope in his view-plate, scanning the black well of space to the east. Then he saw the liner, far out, a silver bullet glinting in the rays of the sun that had sunken below Saturn's horizon hours ago. He was standing at the gate when the great ship came in, roared up the quartz strip, and halted at the ramp. Flint stopped the purser. "I'm supposed to meet a fellow named K. V. Vaun, fur merchant. Which one is he?" The purser slid a finger down his passenger list, shook his head. "No gentleman by that name." Then his finger paused. "There was a lady--" "A _lady_!" The purser looked toward the ship. "Yes. A _Miss_ K. V. Vaun--there she is now." He hurried away, leaving Flint staring at the girl coming down the ramp. She wore a luxurious greenish-gold coat, but the rest of her was strictly business. She was almost as tall as Flint, carried a brief case, and wore glasses. Her face had the pallor of an office fluorescent lamp, her lips were without makeup and her hair was done up in a grim knot at the back of her neck. Her stride had the purposeful determination of one who always knew just where she was going, just what she was going to do. Following her, like lieutenants behind a general, trotted two small men, each carrying a briefcase, each fairly exuding efficiency. Flint stared at the three as they came toward him, stared at them as they marched past him, stared at their backs as they assailed the baggage room. Well, there went his plans--he had to give up without even a fight. He couldn't kidnap a woman. Then suddenly his big fists knotted at his sides. Staring at Miss Vaun's back, he realized her coat was feather-deer. Flint stuck a resolute shoulder into the crowd and went after her. They were waiting at the baggage counter when he came up. Miss Vaun looked over the crowd, tapping her foot. "Now where is the yokel that was to meet us?" "Miss Vaun?" She took a step backward as Flint loomed before her. "Yes?" "I'm the yokel." "Oh," she said. Then, without apology, "Excellent. You're Mr. Flint--the Governor radioed us to expect you. We can leave immediately." "You don't want to rest a bit first, Karen?" one of her little men asked. Flint shouted to himself, "No!" From what he'd seen and heard he was ready to go through the whole thing now, and Greeno was waiting at the radio for the word go. But Miss Vaun apparently had the energy of a cash register. "These liners are virtually traveling hotels, John," she said. "I'm quite rested and I want to look over this property so I can close the deal in the morning." She turned to Flint. "Shall we go?" Flint led them silently toward his plane, grinning inwardly at the deal that by morning certainly should be well closed. * * * * *