"Why, man," said Barrows, "you can't walk all over these miles and miles of farm and pick off every one of them beetles. You must know another way." Rankin drew himself up and stared at Barrows. "I'm telling you all I feel like telling you. You going to stand here and jaw all day? Seems to me like you got work to do." "Rankin," said Barrows, "I know you were a crook back in the Terran Empire, and that you came out beyond the border to escape the law. Seems to me, though, that even a crook, any man, would be willing to help his only neighbor out on a lone planet like this. You might need help yourself, sometime." "You keep your thoughts about my past to yourself," said Rankin. "Remember, I keep a gun. And you've got a wife and a whole bunch of kids on that farm of yours. Be smart and let me alone." "I'm going," said Barrows. He walked off the verandah and turned and spat carefully into the dusty path. He climbed into his ground-car and drove off. Rankin, angry, watched him go. Then he heard a humming noise from another direction. He turned. A huge, white globe was descending across the sky. A space ship, thought Rankin, startled. Police? This planet was outside the jurisdiction of the Terran Empire. When he'd cracked that safe and made off with a hundred thousand credits, he'd headed here, because the planet was part of something called the Clearchan Confederacy. No extradition treaties or anything. Perfectly safe, if the planet was safe. And the planet was more than safe. There had been a hundred robots waiting when he landed. Where they came from he didn't know, but Rankin prided himself on knowing how to handle robots. He'd appropriated their services and started his farm. At the rate he was going, he'd be a plantation owner before long. That must be where the ship was from. The robot said they'd expected visitors. Must be the Clearchan Confederacy visiting this robot outpost. Was that good or bad? From everything he'd read, and from what the robots had told him, they were probably more robots. That was good, because he knew how to handle robots. The white globe disappeared into the jungle of _kesh_ trees. Rankin waited. A half hour later the column of his robot laborers marched out of the forest. There were three more robots, painted grey, at the head. The new ones from the ship, thought Rankin. Well, he'd better establish who was boss right from the start. "Stop right there!" he shouted. The shiny robot laborers halted. But the three grey ones came on. "Stop!" shouted Rankin. They didn't stop, and by the time they reached the verandah, he cursed himself for having failed to get his gun. Two of the huge grey robots laid gentle hands on his arms. Gentle hands, but hands of superstrong metal. The third said, "We have come to pass judgement on you. You have violated our law." "What do you mean?" said Rankin. "The only law robots have is to obey orders."