He stretched luxuriously. "Let's call it a day and turn in. Tomorrow we'll go about the business at hand with clearer heads." "A good idea," Cleve said, "but first, one little gesture. I think it would be judicious." He eyed the Martians, settling finally upon one--a male--standing close and somewhat apart from the rest. Cleve scowled. Standing erect, he called, "Hey--you!" He interpreted the words with a beckoning gesture of his arm. "Come here! Here, boy! Over here!" The Martian reacted with a typically Earthian gesture. He pointed to his own chest with one green finger, while a questioning expression reflected through the eternal grin. "Yes, you! On the double." * * * * * The Martian came forward. There was in his manner a slight hesitation, and Smith expected to see his hind quarters wriggle like that of a dog--uncertain, but eager to please. Cleve pointed with a martinet gesture toward the smoked-out cigar butt he'd thrown to the ground. "Pick it up!" The Martian stood motionless. "Pick--it--_up_, you stupid lout!" [Illustration: _Larkin--now beyond sanity--was gibbering in the grave._] The Martian understood. With a glad little whimper, he bent over and took the cigar butt in his hand. "There," Cleve said. "Garbage can! Get it? _Garbage can._ Place for trash--for cigar butts. Put it in there." Smith wasn't sure whether the grin deepened or not. He thought it did, as the Martian laid the cigar butt carefully into the trash can. "Okay, you fella," Cleve barked, still scowling. "Back and away now. Stay out there! Get it? Only come when you're called." It took a few eloquent gestures, including the pantomime of swinging a whip, before the Martian understood and complied. After he backed into the circle of his fellows, Cleve dropped the cruel overseer manner and turned with satisfaction to Larkin. "I think there will be no trouble at all," he said. "Tomorrow we'll really get down to cases. I predict smooth sailing." They said goodnight to each other and went about the business of preparing for slumber. As he raised the glowing flap of his tent, Larkin saw Smith lounging in a chair before the electric heat unit. "Aren't you going to get some sleep?" "In a little while. I'm going to wait around until those two famous moons come. Want to see them first hand." "A waste of time," Larkin said. "Better keep your mind on more important things." "Goodnight," Smith said. Larkin did not reply, and Smith turned his head to look at the Martians. He wondered where they had come from. They probably had a village somewhere over the rise. He regarded them without fear or apprehension of what might occur during the sleeping hours. He had read the Primary Report, brought back by the pioneer expedition. These people were entirely harmless. Also they were possessed of remarkable stamina. They had stood for days, watching the first expedition, grinning at it, without nourishment of any kind.