"Hang on, Freddie," replied Farrell. "And we've some news for you. Walt Franks and Christine Baler have just committed matrimony." "That's fine--What? Who? When?" "They eloped; left a note; took the _Relay Girl_ unbeknownst to all and sundry. Left their damned note right where the _Relay Girl's_ landing space was." "Well I'll be--" Chuck's voice came in. "He probably will," he observed. "And you know, when I think of spending Eternity with my brother, it's enough to make a guy spend an exemplary life in the hope of going to Heaven so we can be apart. But I've got another guy here that might be interested." "Hello, Channing?" "Well if it ain't Keg Johnson. Own Mars yet?" "No, but I'm darned interested in this coupled-crystal gadget of yours. Mind if I bring Linna out for a few days?" "Come ahead. Coming on _Anopheles_?" asked Don. Keg Johnson laughed. "Not a chance, Don. I own a spaceline, remember? And not wanting to cast disparagement at your type of genius, but I'll prefer riding in style at two gravities instead of blatting all over the sky at five, ducking meters and festoons of cable; eating canned beans off a relay-rack shelf standing up; and waking up in the morning to the tune of Chuck Thomas carving a hole through the bedroom wall to make a straight-line half-wave dipole that won't quite fit in otherwise." "I'd send the _Relay Girl_," said Don, "but it seems as how my old side-kick, Walt Franks, swiped it to locate a justice of the peace in the company of a young and impressionable gal named Christine." "Nuts?" "If so, happy about it. Hope he'll be home by Christmas, anyway." "Well, we'll be arriving in about ten days. See you then, Don." "Right," answered Channing, and Wes Farrell took the microphone to give the Thomas boys some information. * * * * * Mark Kingman emerged from his tiny house in the huge storeroom and his breath blew out in a white cloud. He went to the couple tied to their chairs and said: "Cold, isn't it?" Franks swore. Christine shivered despite the electrically-heated clothing. "You know," said Kingman, "those batteries are going to wear out sooner or later. I'd remove them and let the cold do its work excepting for the fact that I'd have to loose you and get into the inside pocket of the suits. You stay tied!" "Having nothing to eat but your words is beginning to undermine my health," snapped Walt. "Gonna starve us to death too?" "Oh," said Kingman expansively, "I've been devising a machine for you. As an inventor of note, you will appreciate Little Joe. He will take care of you both, to keep you alive until the cold gets you." He returned to his little house and emerged with a large, complicated gadget that he trundled to position in front of Walt and Christine. There was a large hopper above and a wild assortment of levers and gears interlocked in the body of the mechanism. Kingman pressed a button and the gears whirled and the levers flashed--