And Pop came to his rescue. Smoothly. Suavely.
"But he did, Mr. Wade. On the farmlands across the river. Those are the
early crops; the ones you've just seen are the late harvest."
"But--but you claimed those were _your_ crops!"
"Did I?" Pop stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Well, maybe I was bragging
a little. You see, I've been working for Mr. Wilkes. A sort of
share-cropper, you might say."
"Now I get it!" howled the angry scout. "I thought so. It's
skullduggery, that's what it is! Don't you see, Colonel? These men
are conspiring to defraud us. To cheat the Corporation. Moseley had
deliberately given his crops and food-supply to Wilkes--"
There was again a twinkle in the Colonel's eye. He said, soberly, "And
suppose you're right, Wade? What then? There's no law against a man
giving away his possessions to another man, is there?
"As an inspector for the Solar Space Patrol, my only interest is
in seeing that a settler's domain fulfills the requirements of the
Squatter's Rights Code. Mr. Wilkes has fulfilled those requirements.
I am not interested in the how or why. Therefore, under the power
invested in me by the Triune Planetary Government, I hereby decide and
award--"
And then a crafty brilliance illumined Wade's eyes.
"Stop!" he cried.