[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Science Fiction January 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Their chances hung literally on a prayer ...
which they had to answer all by themselves!
Angus McIntosh vigorously scuffed the tarnished nameplate on the
wrecked cargo carrier. Then he stepped back and squinted under shaggy
gray eyebrows.
Letter by letter, number by number, he coaxed out the designation
on the crumpled bow of the spacer in the vine-matted gorge: "RT ...
3070 ... VG-II."
His lean frame tensed with concern as he turned to stare soberly at the
other. "A Vegan robot trader!"
Bruce Drummond grinned. "Are we lucky! Clunkers are worth money--in any
condition."