"Mister," I says, "everybody knows what a dangerous guy Luigi is. Why, they got his mug on the wanted wall in every space station from here to the outer galaxies." "Yes, I presume they have." "I figure one of these days the cops is gonna pin enough on him to make him look like a astronavigator's space map," I adds. "Oh, I doubt if the space control will ever have the opportunity to apprehend him here on Venus. This is still a wild, mostly unsettled planet, you know. And besides, Luigi is too smart," says this little guy, like he knows Luigi personal. "Yeh, he sure is. Uh--what's he got on you?" * * * * * The little guy reaches over like he doesn't know he's takin' the Plutonian stinger right from under me nose, and says sort of thoughtful-like, "He thinks I stole his girl." "Yeh. Yeh, sure, that would make _any_ fella ma--" I starts, then it seeps through, and I looks at this little, skinny, runty guy, only I can't laugh. "Oh, I didn't of course. But the fact that she was last seen entering my apartment, and that she never left it, at least not visibly--well, that makes it terribly difficult to convince him--" "Now wait a minute--" "Oh, I don't expect anyone to believe me, anymore. Sometimes I find it hard to believe myself." "D-do you know who Luigi's gal is?" I finally stutters. "Was," he corrects, mournful-like. This sort of scared me. Either this guy was the kind of crank they never use to wind up a cold jet, or women had changed a lot since the last time I enriched my culture by attending a performance of Flossie's Follies at the Little Venus Circuit Burly-que. "Mister, I ain't lookin' fer no trouble," I mutters, edgin' back on my stool. "Oh, but I assure you, I'm telling the truth." "Helen LaTour, the terrific blonde," I says, meaningful-like. "The same!" "The queen of the burly circuit," I goes on, without realizin' that I am stretched halfway across the table, shoutin' into his ear because of a slight argument going on down the bar. "The most luscious hunk of stuff that ever shook a notion to go on the stage," I enlarges. "Right out of this world," I finishes up. "Right?" "Precisely. Right out of this world." "In your apartment?" "In my apartment." Now, I figures that maybe he was one of these here not-so-juvenile delinquents what believes that if they can't have it, they can at least kill it, so I starts edgin' away, but then I gets a sudden thought. "You sure the cops ain't on your trail, bud?" "No, but if Luigi doesn't get me, it's only a matter of time until they will be. After all, anyone such as her, disappearing--" "I thought she was out of town." "No. Just out of this world." Them words take on a sinister-like significance, the way he says them. Then he gets up, sober-lookin' in spite of them Plutonian stingers that would of disintegrated even a Martian.