"This fine farmland," smiled the space officer, "and that artesian
well I see across the river ... these silos, and your magnificent
dwelling...."
Pop hrrumphed, even more embarrassed.
"Colonel," he faltered, "I think I'd better explain immediately that
all is not mine. There are two groups of claimants to this planetoid.
Ourselves and a family named Wilkes. Martians. Our property is here;
theirs is across the river. I--uh--here comes Wilkes now."
Travers' brow furrowed.
"Indeed? Then he was right, after all!"
"He? Who?"
The question was answered by the appearance of a man in drill
space-gear who stepped from the _Sirius_. A lean and capable-appearing
man, hard-bitten of feature, shrewd of eye and tight of lip. Colonel
Travers said, "Dr. Moseley, permit me to introduce Mr. Wade, survey
scout of the United Ores Corporation."
Wade acknowledged the introduction with a crisp nod. Then, "What's
this about there being two claimants to Eros?" He turned to the
ship's commander. "This makes a difference, doesn't it, Colonel? My
information was correct. Therefore it becomes your duty to make a
final, exhaustive study of the settlers' accomplishments right _now_.
And in the event their projects have not been completed in accordance
with the provisions of the Squatter's Rights Code, Section 103A,
Paragraphs vii to xix, inclusive--"
Eleanor whispered nervously, "What does he mean, Dick? What is he
talking about?" and Dick nodded tightly. "I think I know." He stepped
forward. "I take it, Mr. Wade, that the U.O.C. has filed a claim on the
possession of Eros in the event that our settlement projects should not
satisfy the inspector's requirements?"
"Quite right, young man. And I might add--" Wade was openly hostile. "I
might add that I have obtained permission to accompany Colonel Travers
on his inspection tour. In order to verify his findings. If I am not
satisfied--"
"That will do, Mr. Wade!" Colonel Travers was under orders to treat
his passenger as a guest; there was no obligation that he like the
ore scout. The glint in his eye, the set of his jaw, indicated the
direction in which his sympathy lay. "I am quite capable of handling
this. Ah--Good day, sir! Mr. Wilkes, I presume?"
"Howdy, Skipper. Yeah, I'm Sam Wilkes." The rival settler glanced
around swiftly, sensed the overtones of enmity, glared at Pop
suspiciously. "What's wrong here? Has Moseley been squawkin' about--?"
"Dr. Moseley informed us that you and he were both claimants to Eros.
Therefore I shall immediately visit your two establishments in order to
determine which, if either of you, has the better justified his claim.
"Lieutenant Thrainell, you will serve as my aide. We will first
inspect Dr. Moseley's habitation."
* * * * *
Thus it began. Pop took the two Patrolmen and the civilian critic to
Delta Port, pointed out with pride the many things accomplished within
the past months. He met, in Col. Travers, an admiring audience. The
commander was outspokenly delighted with what he saw.
"Gad, man! You did all this without power? This is the pioneering feat
of the decade! Look, Lieutenant! Running water ... chinaware ... that
furniture! Marvelous! You deserve a wealth of credit, Doctor."
"But," pointed out Wade caustically, "you mentioned the biggest fault
yourself."
"I beg your pardon, Mr. Wade?"
"Without power!" snapped Wade. "Moseley, where are your lights? Where's
your power plant? How about heat? And this cooking equipment--it's
aboriginal!"
Pop said stiffly, "We have no hypatomic, sir. But you will notice
that we have devised satisfactory substitutes for power-driven gear.
Hand-pumps draw our water, light is supplied by these oil-float lamps,
our house is centrally heated by these open fire-places. We are--" He
faltered. "We shall, of course, order a complete hypatomic unit from
Earth, install it as soon as possible."
"I'm afraid that's not quick enough," sneered Wade. "Colonel Travers
will undoubtedly remember the requirements of the law in that respect.
'Claimant must display, at time of inspection, a power-plant of atomic,
motor, or hydraulic drive capable of generating a minimum of 3,000
Legerling units _per diem_, and so arranged as to provide dwellings
and other structures with heat, light and power.' You have no such
equipment, have you, Dr. Moseley?"
"No, but--"
"You have not, then?"
"No."
"Very well, then." Wade smiled thinly, closed the black book in which
he had been jotting notes with a plushy sound of finality. "May I
suggest, Colonel, that we see the _other_ claimant's plantation?"
After they had left, Colonel Travers shaking his head regretfully at
Pop as if to say he was sorry but helpless before the arguments of this
interloper, Pop sat down and propped his chin on his fists. Yesterday
he had looked like a man of thirty; all of sudden he looked old and
weary and discouraged. He said, "Well, there it is, Martha. I've
dreamed my dream, and now it's over, and I've failed."
"No you haven't Rob. The Colonel is on our side. He's a good man.
He'll--"
"But the law is on Wade's side. If our claim is outlawed, Eros will
become a dirty, smoky mining camp. This soft beauty, these green
rolling hills, will echo with the clatter of blasters. Unless--"
And suddenly he was again a man of action. He came to his feet suddenly.
"Martha, Eleanor, Dick--everybody! Get those preserves out of the
storage closet. Grampaw, get the hauler from the shed. Bobby, you run
and tell Sam Wilkes to keep those inspectors out of his house for a
half hour or so."
"Why, Pop?" demanded Dick. "What are you going to do?"
"Do? I'm going to see that Sam Wilkes gets this planet, that's what!
Oh, I know--there won't be any question of his sharing it with me. He's
too hard and stiff-necked a man for that. But he's our kind of man,
with all his faults. A pioneer with the daring to come to a new world
and try to build it into a home of his own.
"We've known for weeks that all he needed to justify his claim was
a food supply. Well, by thunder, we've got a food supply! And we'll
give it to him, lock, stock and barrel, to keep Eros out of the
Corporation's hands! Now, step, everybody! Moira! Moira--where is that
girl?"
"She stayed down by the river, Pop."
"Well, find her. Bobby, go tell Sam Wilkes what I just said!"
Bobby scooted.
* * * * *
He was soaking wet when he got to the Wilkes' house. That was because
he took the short-cut, which meant plunging right into the river and
swimming across, clothes and all. The inspectors and their snoopy
companion would have to take the long route, around the ford.
Mr. Wilkes wasn't in the house when he got there. But Mrs. Wilkes
was, and Ginger, and both gasped as they saw him. Mrs. Wilkes bustled
forward.
"Sweet stars above, child, what are you doing here? Get those clothes
off; you'll catch your death of cold. Ginger--go get one of Junior's
suits--"
Bobby said, "There's no time for that, Mrs. Wilkes. Where's Fat Sa--I
mean, where's your husband?"
Ginger said, "Don't tell him, Ma. He's just here to crow because he
knows we can't pass the inspection requirements--"
"You--you shut up!" bellowed Bobby. "You doggone female! You don't know
anything about it. Mrs. Wilkes, get your husband. Mom and Sis and the
rest will be here any minute now. They're--"
And he explained. His explanation sent them into a flurry of
excitement; there was even deeper excitement when Sam Wilkes, hastily
summoned, heard the same story repeated. For once the leathery corners
of his mouth relaxed into something like a grin. He swore, and slammed
a big hand on his knee.
"Your old man is going to do that for us, sonny? Well, hornswoggle my
jets! And to think I--Junior, go find Red. Hop it!"
"Red's not around, Pa. He went toward the river."
"Confound him! Just when we need him most. Well--I'll go meet the
confounded rascals, stall them as long as I can. And look here,
you--what's your name?"
"Bobby."
"I won't forget this, Bobby! Not by a jugfull. If I hadn't been such
a stubborn, pigheaded old hound, I'd have dickered with your Pa long
afore this. There's plenty of room on Eros for two families. Or two
dozen!"
Then followed a half hour of labor so swift that it made all the
accomplishments of the past months seem snail-like by comparison. Mom
and Eleanor arrived, bearing armloads of canned goods and preserves;
Grampaw and Dick brought the hauler across the river on a raft,
and piled high on the hauler were fresh vegetables that gorged the
never-used Wilkes containers to repletion. It was fast work, but
efficient. And when, about three-quarters of an Earth hour later,
Wilkes came from the lower acreage accompanied by the two officers and
the Corporation investigator, the job was finished, and a tired but
glowing two-family group awaited him.
Colonel Travers' inspection of the food-supply was perfunctory. It
needed not be otherwise. One glance sufficed to show that there was in
the Wilkes household enough food to nourish a dozen families for as
many months.
And there was a smile of grim satisfaction on his lips as, turning to
his aide, he said, "Very well, Lieutenant. You may make a notation that
the Wilkes household has been inspected and found satisfactory in all
respects." He looked at Wade purposefully and repeated in a firm tone.
"In _all_ respects!"
* * * * *
Ah, he was no dummy, that Colonel. Bobby had seen the twinkle in his
eye as he glanced into the preserve closet. Because, shucks! there
wasn't any mistaking Mom's way of doing up preserves. With little red
bands around each jar, and her firm, crabbed handwriting telling what
was inside.
"In all respects!" he said again. And reached for Sam Wilkes' pudgy
paw. "Congratulations, Sir! You've earned possession of the planetoid
Eros. Your power-plant is among the finest it has ever been my pleasure
to view; you have undeniably cleared and planted the required number of
acres, your food supply is well above the minimum requirements--"
"But see here!" Wade's face was an ugly red. "I'm not satisfied,
Colonel. There's something fishy about this. The farmlands we inspected
were barely out of the seed stage. The corn was only knee high, the
vegetables mere sprouts. These people couldn't have raised all this
produce--"