"Clever," said Andrews. "Ingenious. I--er--got to thinking over what you said this morning, Malcolm, after you left. You were right. For a group of civilized people we let ourselves get into sorry shape." He rubbed his chin reflectively. Greg noticed for the first time that his face was no longer dark with beard; that though his clothes were still dirty, he had made an effort to straighten them, dust them. The skin of his face, though, was pink and sore; chafed. Greg said, "What in the world did you shave with, Bert? A cross-cut saw?" Andrews said defensively, "The electric razor won't work. The dry-cells are exhausted, and we can't use D. C. without wasting fuel. There wasn't a honed blade aboard the skiff. I used my pocket-knife. It--" he confessed ruefully, "It wasn't very sharp." Greg said, "Hannigan mounted carborundum sheets on a lathe wheel and put edges on a couple steak knives for us. I'll let you have one before you go back. Hey, there he is now! What's the story, Sparks?" Hannigan came into the clearing at a trot. He was excited. He said, "Sweet Christmas cow, Greg, you know what I run across? A--What's this? Company?" The eager, interested look fled from Bert Andrews' eyes. He said stiffly, "I--I guess I'll be running along now, Malcolm. See you again." * * * * * He turned, his shoulders very stiff. Too stiff to be convincing. Greg glanced at him appraisingly, motioned the radioman to keep his mouth shut, called after the young Andrews. "Don't go yet, Bert. We're just getting ready for dinner." "Dinner?" The young man spun like a top. Then he recalled his dignity. "Oh--dinner! Why, I guess ours is almost ready, too. 'Bye--" "We'd be glad to have you stay," said Greg levelly, striving to keep the amusement out of his voice. "I think there's a roast tonight. Something that looks like a young suckling pig, can't exactly tell, though, till we taste it. These Titanian animals are different. Then there's a salad and potatoes and beans, a fruit compote, and I think 'Tina baked a pie today." Andrew's eyes widened as his lips twitched. "I--I wouldn't want to be any trouble," he said faintly. "No trouble at all," said Greg. Then, unable longer to restrain himself, "But of course if you think they'll be expecting you--?" "No, I'll stay!" blurted Andrews hastily. "Thanks. I can wash up somewhere?" "Inside. Ask Aunt Maud for soap. She's the custodian of that." Then, as the young man disappeared into the cave hurriedly, Greg grinned at Hannigan. "One!" he said. "You want to hear about what I seen?" demanded the redhead. "Listen, it was terrific! Great big marsh, full of the damnedest life-forms and craziest vegetation anybody ever met up with. Hot, too! Steamy, like the Grand Marshes of Venus, only not quite as stinking--" He stopped, annoyed. "One what? You ain't listening to a word I'm saying. Don't you want to hear?"