I gave him the Earth equivalent of the gesture, raising my right hand in a sort of lazy wave. "Hello, yourself," I said. "Snow seems to be having trouble communicating with you." Clatclit nodded, and seated himself on that stool. "What's this about her brother Ted?" I went on. "She asked if you knew where he was, and got a yes-no answer." The nod again. "Do you know where he's at?" I persisted. Clatclit made the same yes-no motion with his nubbly head that Snow had described. I thought it over. "You know, _in a way_, where he is, but not _specifically_?" Violent nods, three of them. "Ah, so that's it!" I said. "Let's see. Can you take us to him?" The yes-no business again. "You can take us to a point, but no further, maybe?" The violent triple nod. "Is there danger?" Three nods. "To you?" Headshake. "To me and Snow, then?" Headshake. "Ah! To _Ted_." Nods. "How about his companions? Are they in danger too?" Yes. "From whom?" I said, forgetting our limitations. Disgusted stare. "Oh, yeah, that's right. Uh ... from Baxter?" A rocking of the head from side to side. This was a new one. I wrinkled up my forehead, puzzling it out. "Baxter's a danger in general, you mean, but that's not the danger you meant, right?" Nods again. "Okay, then, let's see who's left.... Danger from Earthmen, like those mobs who came after me?" Negative. "Surely not danger from me or Snow?" Negative. "From--from you Martians?" I choked, bewildered. The head rocked from side to side. "Danger.... Danger from sugarfeet?" A very violent negative. "But from _Martians_?" I queried, blinking. A slow, positive nod. "But there are no Martians but you sugarfeet. Unless--" An icy cold hand grabbed my adrenal glands and squeezed, hard. "The Ancients!" I gasped, in horror. A triple yes. "Then they're not extinct!" A disgusted stare. I realized he couldn't answer till I rephrased that one, or I'd be stuck with wondering if he meant yes, they are, or yes, they aren't. "Are they extinct?" I said. Headshake. "And they've got the boys!" Nod. "And they're inimical to man, in some way!" Violent negative. I stared, confused, into Clatclit's lizardy eyes. "They--they aren't dangerous to man?" The sideways rocking motion. "They're a danger to some men--Baxter's men!" A nod, but with a kind of hesitation about it. "But also to the boys?" I marvelled. The yes-no motion. "Under certain conditions, they're a danger to the boys!" Yes. "These conditions; do they have anything to do with Baxter?" Yes. "Hmmm...." I leaned back on my hands on the cot, and studied Clatclit's face, thinking hard. "Could it be that these Ancients want something with regard to Baxter, but that the boys' safety is the price of it?" A jump up from the stool, a laughably Earthlike clap of the hands, and a triple series of very positive nods. Clatclit sat down again, a much happier sugarfoot than when he'd entered.