He never finished his denunciation of Biggs. For at that moment the oncoming Themisites hove within hurling distance--and started hurling! Only this time it was not, as it had been a short while before, flowers. This time their expressions of "everlasting peace and affection" were offered with--_stones, arrows, and spears_! * * * * * Well, Hanson's roar of rage threatened to lift the top clean off the control turret. "Dastards!" he screamed. "Vandals, murderers and things that rhyme with what I first called 'em! This is all I'm goin' to take from them four-legged scoundrels. Call up the men, Sparks! Tell 'em to man the guns! We're goin' to blast them murderin' skunks from here to Kingdom Come--" "Wait, Dad!" pleaded Biggs feverishly. "I think I'm beginning to understand--faintly. If you'll give me just a little more time--" "Time your Aunt Nellie! I've done all the delayin' I'm goin' to--" It was at that moment the telaudio, which I had set to vocode any message which came in on the Luna circuit, began squawking. It was faint at first, and sort of garbled, with lots of static, but it cleared as it went along. "Lieutenant Lancelot Biggs," it called, "aboard the _Saturn_--congratulations! You are the father of a fine baby boy!" "B-b-b-boy!" gasped Biggs. His face turned every color in the spectrum, and a couple that haven't been invented yet. "A--a boy!" "_Yippee!_" howled the Old Man, his thoughts of vengeance on the Themisites temporarily forgotten. "A grandson! I'm a grampaw! _Yippee!_" "Congratulations, Lanse!" I said. "A boy, eh? Swell! Another Biggs in space, one of these days--" "S-s-see if you can get Earth, Sparks," chattered Biggs. "F-f-find out how Diane is." "Right!" I snapped. "I'll get at it immediately." I started for the radio room. But before I had taken two steps the audio began talking again. "Lieutenant Lancelot Biggs," it called, "aboard the _Saturn_--congratulations! You are the father of a fine baby boy!" My face sort of blanched. I turned to Biggs. "Congratulations," I offered, "again, Lanse! Golly--_two_ boys!" Hanson demanded, "Whaddya mean, two boys! That's a repeat message, you dope!" Lanse smiled sort of feebly. "I--I'm afraid not, Dad," he said. "If it were a repeat message, Marlowe would have said, 'Repeat.' Sparks is right. I--I'm the father of twins!" "Well, I'll be darned!" ejaculated the Old Man. Then, rallying, "Twins, eh? Good! That makes me _two_ grampaws, eh? Fine! I'm twice as gla--" He stopped, his jaw dropping strickenly. For again Joe Marlowe's voice was rolling through the control turret. "Lieutenant Lancelot Biggs," it called, "aboard the _Saturn_--congratulations! You are the father of a fine baby boy--" "G-g-gracious!" gasped Biggs, and fell into a chair. "_Triplets!_" * * * * *