"Good." Matheny stopped the projector. He sat down on the edge of
the table, swinging one leg, and lit his pipe. Its bowl glowed in
the dimness like the eye of a small demon. "By the way," he said
irrelevantly, "if you check the newscast tapes, you'll find I was
runner-up in last year's all-Martian pistol contest. It's a tough
contest to win. There are no bad shots on Mars--survival of the
fittest, you know."
* * * * *
Doran wet his lips. "Uh, no hard feelings. No, none at all. But say,
in case you are, well, you know, looking for a slipstring, what I came
here for was to tell you I have located the very guy you want. Only he
is in jail right now, see, and it will cost--"
"Oh, no!" groaned Matheny. "Not the Syrtis Prospector! Kids are taught
that swindle in kindergarten."
Doran bowed his head. "We call it the Spanish Prisoner here," he said.
He got up. "I will send the price of those films around in the morning."
"You'll call your bank and have the cash pneumoed here tonight," said
Matheny. "Also Sam's share. I daresay he can pay you back."
"No harm in trying, was there?" asked Doran humbly.
"None at all." Matheny chuckled. "In fact, I'm grateful to you. You
helped me solve my major problem."
"Huh? I did what? How?"
"I'll have to investigate further, but I'm sure my hunch will be
confirmed. You see, we Martians have stood in awe of Earthmen. And
since for a long time there's been very little contact between the
two planets except the purely official, impersonal sort, there's been
nothing to disabuse us. It's certainly true that our organizations
can't compete with yours, because your whole society is based on
organizations. But now, by the same token, I wonder if your individuals
can match ours. Ever hear of the Third Moon? No? The whipsaw play? The
aqueduct squeeze? Good Lord, can't you even load a derrel set?"
Matheny licked his chops. "So there's our Martian export to Earth.
Martian con men. I tell you this under security, of course--not that
anyone would believe you, till our boys walk home with the shirt off
the Terrestrial back."
He waved an imperious pipe-stem. "Hurry up and pay me, please. I've
a date tonight with Peri. I just called her up and explained the
situation and she really _does_ seem to like Martians."