"Those," said Kenzie in a hollow, impressive voice, "are aphis. If you will look closer, Pringle, you will see among them--ants. The aphid is to the ant as the dairy cow is to the human. Those ants are aphid herders, carefully tending and milking their flock." "Here we go again," moaned one of the fellows across the lab. "The ants are a highly intelligent life form," Kenzie went on. "I would explain it to you in detail, but I am in the middle of a problem at this moment." "Thank heaven for that," another tech ground out the words. "Suffice it to say," Kenzie ignored all interruptions, "Man would well occupy himself trying to communicate with them." The Chief came to the doorway of his little office down at the end of the lab. He looked us all over patiently and knowingly. "Now give him your syllogism, Kenzie," he said quietly, "so we can all get back to work." "You may reflect on this, Pringle," Kenzie stated and waved his soldering iron in the air. "One: Man wants to communicate with intelligent life from other planets or the stars. "Two: We know from observation the ants communicate with one another. "Ergo: Before we reach so far as to contact extra terrestrial intelligence, had we not better occupy our time with solving a much simpler communications problem; to wit: communicate with the ants? How can we expect to solve communication with really alien beings from the stars, when we have not learned to communicate with the intelligent beings at our very feet?" All over the room we sighed heavily with relief. We knew the syllogism was the conclusion, the Sunday punch. The boy had really cut it short this time. Usually he was good for a solid hour with facts and figures about how ants built bridges and such stuff. We all looked at Pringle's face, expecting to see the embarrassed and sheepish grin. This was the usual reaction of a stranger when he first met up with Kenzie's syllogism. It horrified us to see, instead, his shining eyes. We heard him say enthusiastically. "That's just how I've always felt about it, Kenzie. It's a pleasure to meet a man who isn't afraid of thinking." "Oh, no-o-o!" we all groaned out in a chorus. "Only," Pringle said dubiously, and our hopes began to arise again. "Only I've been thinking more along the line of termites." Our hopes fell and were shattered. We heard the Chief moan to himself and saw him turn and almost run back into his office. "Two of 'em now," he was mumbling over and over. "Two of 'em now. It ain't worth it. It ain't worth it." He sat down heavily and buried his head in his arms across the top of his desk. Kenzie was watching him too, like he was wondering what had got into the Chief. Then Kenzie turned back to Pringle. "Ants," he said with determination. "Termites," Pringle answered him stubbornly. Kenzie glared at Pringle for a minute, then his face cleared. "Why not both of them?" he asked, like a fellow who was willing to be big about it.