"I have always held that entertainment, of the right sort, is the most valuable aid humanity can have in its search for the alleviation of toil and boredom...." I said, "Sure, sure. But what was your idea?" "There are many towns along the Venusian frontiers where no entertainment of the--_proper_ sort has been available. I propose to remedy that. I propose to charter your circus, Mister Shannon, to make a tour of several settlements along the Tehara Belt." Bucky had relaxed. His grey-green eyes began to gleam. He started to speak, and I kicked him again. "That would be expensive, Mister Beamish," I said. "We'd have to cancel several engagements...." He looked at me. I was lying, and he knew it. But he said, "I quite understand that. I would be prepared...." The curtains were yanked back suddenly. Beamish shut up. Bucky and I glared at the head and shoulders poking in between the drapes. It was Gow, our zoo-man--a big, ugly son-of-a-gun from a Terran colony on Mercury. I was there once. Gow looks a lot like the scenery--scowling, unapproachable, and tough. His hands, holding the curtains apart, had thick black hair on them and were not much larger than the hams of a Venusian swamp-rhino. He said, "Boss, Gertrude's actin' up again." "Gertrude be blowed," growled Bucky. "Can't you see I'm busy?" Gow's black eyes were unpleasant. "I'm tellin' you, Boss, Gertrude ain't happy. She ain't had the right food. If something...." I said, "That'll all be taken care of, Gow. Run along now." He looked at me like he was thinking it wouldn't take much timber to fit me for a coffin. "Okay! But Gertrude's unhappy. She's lonesome, see? And if she don't get happier pretty soon I ain't sure your tin-pot ship'll hold her." He pulled the curtains to and departed. Bucky Shannon groaned. Beamish cleared his throat and said, rather stiffly, "Gertrude?" "Yeah. She's kind of temperamental." Bucky took a quick drink. I finished for him. "She's the star attraction of our show, Mr. Beamish. A real blue-swamp Venusian _cansin_. The only other one on the Triangle belongs to Savitt Brothers, and she's much smaller than Gertrude." She was also much younger, but I didn't go into that. Gertrude may be a little creaky, but she's still pretty impressive. I only hoped she wouldn't die on us, because without her we'd have a sicker-looking circus than even I could stand. Beamish looked impressed. "A _cansin_. Well, well! The mystery surrounding the origin and species of the _cansin_ is a fascinating subject. The extreme rarity of the animal...." We were getting off the subject. I said tactfully, "We'd have to have at least a hundred U.C.'s." It was twice what we had any right to ask. I was prepared to dicker. Beamish looked at me with that innocent dead pan. For a fraction of a second I thought I saw something back of his round blue eyes, and my stomach jumped like it was shot. Beamish smiled sweetly.