"Just the opposite! Another of them phony 'nights' has passed outside since you two've been fiddlin' around up there. Now it's daylight again ... and there's a mob of Themisites gathered around outside ... _wavin' banners and peltin' the_ Saturn _with flowers_! The Thagwar has just sent a messenger biddin' us friendly welcome to Themis!" * * * * * "Great growling guttersnipes!" I spluttered, "What's this all about? One minute they want to kill and boo ... the next they want to bill and coo! Why don't they make up their minds?" "Probably," decided the skipper, "because they ain't got none. Lanse--?" "We can't learn anything," said Biggs quietly, "in here. Let's go outside." So for the third time in as many Themisian 'days', out we pranced, to be greeted by such hooraw and ballyhoo as you never saw. Those same centaurs who, a few short Earthly hours ago had been aiming lethal presents at our kissers were now aiming kisses at our presence! Their leader pranced forward gracefully and made a low bow before Cap Hanson. "Greetings, Oh child of the Blue World!" he intoned. "As Thagwar of Themis I bid you welcome to our peace-loving little planet--" "Th-thanks!" said the Old Man, and looked bewildered. "Lanse, son, suppose you--?" But Lanse was staring curiously at the speaker. He nudged me and whispered, "Sparks, study the Thagwar! Do you notice anything ... well ... _strange_ about him?" "Sure!" I assented. "He looks like a veterinarian's mistake; is that what you mean? If it's the color of his eyes you're worrying about, you'd better ask somebody else. These Themisites all look the same to me. Like peas from the same pot." "That's not what I meant," whispered Biggs. "What strikes me as being odd is that ... remember how proud he was of those ornaments we gave him before the 'night' period set in? He had himself all decked out like a Christmas tree. But now look at him! Not a single decoration!" "Maybe," I suggested, "he's allergic to tin?" "And on the other hand," mused Biggs, "_that_ Themisite over there is wearing a bracelet and a brass curtain rod in his nose--" He was perfectly right. The big boss of Themis was as barren of trinkets as a Pilgrim father. But standing in the background was one of his henchmen glittering like gilt on a joy-joint bar! It was whacky. The Thagwar didn't look to me like the kind of guy--or hoss--who would donate his "tribute" to a subject. "There's something fishy about this," I said. "Ask him how come, Lanse ... just for the halibut." "I will," said Biggs, and stepped forward to do so. But before he could pop the question, the Thagwar spoke up. "Peace," he said hoarsely--no pun intended, pals! Lay down them bricks!--"Peace between your people and mine. And now--did you bring the usual tribute?" "Usual tribute!" repeated the Old Man starkly. "Of course we did! We give it to you yesterday, you rascally old scoundrel. What's the big idea of--?"