"Cathy, give me Carson--and don't listen!" he said tensely. He heard clickings on the two-way beam. "My generator's gone," he said sourly when Carson answered. "I've repaired it twice this week. It looks like it was built to stop working! What is this all about, anyhow?" The representative of the Cetis Gamma Trading Company sounded bored. "You want a new generator sent out?" he asked without interest. "Your crop credit's still all right--if the fields are in good shape." "I want machinery that works!" Lon Simpson snapped. "I want machinery that doesn't have to be bought four times over a growing season! And I want it at a decent price!" "Look, those generators come out from Earth. There's freight on them. There's freight on everything that comes out from Earth. You people come to a developed planet, you buy your land, your machinery, your house, and you get instruction in agriculture. Do you want the company to tuck you in bed at night besides? Do you want a new generator or not?" "How much?" demanded Lon. When Carson told him, he hit the ceiling. "It's robbery! What'll I have left for my crop if I buy that?" * * * * * Carson's voice was still bored. "If you buy it and your crop's up to standard, you'll owe the crop plus three hundred credits. But we'll stake you to next growing season." "And if I don't?" demanded Lon. "Suppose I don't give you all my work for nothing and wind up in debt?" "By contract," Carson told him, "we've got the right to finish cultivating your crop and charge you for the work because we've advanced you credit on it. Then we attach your land and house for the balance due. And you get no more credit at the Company stores. And passage off this planet has to be paid for in cash." He yawned. "Don't answer now," he said without interest. "Call me back after you calm down. You'd only have to apologize." Lon Simpson heard the click as he began to describe, heatedly, what was in his mind. He said it anyhow. Then Cathy's voice came from the exchange. She sounded shocked but sympathetic. "Lon! Please!" He swallowed a particularly inventive description of the manners, morals and ancestry of all the directors and employees of the Cetis Gamma Trading Company. Then he said, still fuming, "I told you not to listen!" His wrongs overcame him again. "It's robbery! It's peonage! They've got every credit I had! They've got three-quarters of the value of my crop charged up for replacements of the lousy machinery they sold me--and now I'll end the growing season in debt! How am I going to ask you to marry me?" "Not over a beamphone, I hope," said Cathy. He was abruptly sunk in gloom. "That was a slip," he admitted. "I was going to wait until I got paid for my crop. It looked good. Now--" "Wait a minute, Lon," Cathy said. There was silence. She gave somebody else a connection.