"With your permission, sir, I should like to write a letter to accompany the Vadirrian. Then ... I shall go home." "Home?" "My ... beach home, sir. I have considerable property fronting on the Nergal Sea, you know. As far as I care to walk," he added with some bitterness. Bannerman shrugged. "Public property, Thorne. There are pens and paper there. I'll see your letter off with the box." "Thank you, sir." But, pen in hand, Thorne sat staring into space, nibbing thoughtfully at the tip. It was not easy. Finally, he began to write, slowly, awkwardly forming the letters he had not shaped for two years and more. But, presently, warming to the unaccustomed task, they came more easily and the pen scratched briskly in the silent office. Bannerman buried himself in his paper work, ignoring the visitor at the other table. _Dear Miss Thurland_, _You will remember me, I think, even if only as a poor space-bum dragged by the heels from the Nergal Sea, on Mars, just outside Vulhan City. You were kind to give me money, twenty credits._ _You may remember I told you the money would be for t'ang. It wasn't, however, nor has it been spent at all. You showed me what I was, Miss Thurland, and I didn't like the picture._ _Notice of receipt will come to you, perhaps before this letter, that a parcel has been deposited in your name at the Foundation in New Yatt. It is the fortune I found in the desert. I know you would not accept such a gift from me, so please believe me I do not intend it as a gift, nor even as a payment for the credits you gave me. One cannot repay things like that, even with the parcel at the Foundation._ _It is pure Vadirrian oil, petrified, valued at more than one hundred and eighty thousand credits. I am sure you realize how valuable, far more than in mere credits, this find can be. It will give new life to hundreds of stricken people suffering the strange disease we transmit between the planets with this new commerce._ _You spoke of my ex-steward, Nancy Bertrand. We can do nothing for her now, buried on Io, but because you were her friend, I would ask you to set up the fund as a memorial to her, to train nurses and stewards for the space-runs and to insure that girls as fine as she are given the chance she made for herself to go out into the world and do work as important as hers. I know that is not too much to ask of you, Miss Thurland. Your own expenses for the transaction are included in the fund. Because I may not return to Earth, now or ever, I have taken the liberty of imposing this bequest on you, knowing that, as you loved Nancy, it will give you pleasure to insure her some fitting memorial._