[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
August 1954
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
It's still very clear in my mind. The whole episode. The afternoon
visit to Marsten's office, the trip to Mars, and the journey back.
It was one of those warm summer afternoons. All one craved for was a
patch of green grass to recline on and maybe a faint breeze to tingle
one's forehead. I was sure of the grass and hopeful for the breeze.
But one of Marsten's messengers popped up and the grass and the breeze
would have to wait. After all, Marsten was my boss.
He had his office in the Empire State Building. Norbert Marsten was the
owner of the Marsten Circus, the greatest, biggest, loudest circus in
the world. And if you don't believe it, ask Mr. Marsten.
"Sit down, Nick," he invited, speaking from one corner of his mouth as
the other corner was busy chewing a dollar cigar. Marsten was a small
man with sleek black, hair. A small man with big ideas.