_Any reply will reach me if addressed to Captain B. Bannerman, Superintendent of Patrol, Vulhan City, Mars. Again, let me thank you. My life is worth little to myself or others, but you gave me back my self-respect._ _I shall hope to see you again one day, should you visit beyond the moon._ _Sincerely,_ _Geofrey Thorne._ * * * * * An hour or so later, Vulhan City only a dim glow of light in the evening sky behind him, Thorne was walking quietly along the beach. There was someone waiting for him on the low headland beyond which lay his own particular cove where he had spent so much and so unworthily the time lying heavily on his hands. The Martian, Hanu, his grizzled whiskers blowing about his wizened, elfish face stood alone, an armed man. "I have returned, Hanu." "It was not to return you left this cove," the Martian replied, sternly. His great round eyes were fixed on the other. "My debt is paid, Hanu." "Money will not repay. Can your gold buy back, your honor, or ours?" "I did not repay in gold, friend, but in the golden oil your ancestors left us all--the Vadirrian. I bought opportunity and happiness for many others with its price. For myself, you see me as I am. I have nothing else. I return as I left, a derelict." A slow, wise smile crept over the Martian's wrinkled monkey-face. He pulled at his whiskers. Then he linked arms with the ex-pilot. "Come, friend Thorne. You have paid the debt. Let us go down to the village and see what the women have laid for the evening meal. We shall welcome you...."