"What kind of an animal was this you were speaking of?" asked Meek.
"Asteroid Prowler," said Stiffy. "Most of these hoodlums don't think
there is one, but I know different. I saw him this afternoon and he
was the dad-blamest thing I ever laid my eyes on. He boiled right out
from behind a big rock and started coming after me. I let him have one
in the face but that didn't even nick him. Full-power, too. When that
happened I didn't waste no more time. I took it on the lam. Got to my
ship and got out of there."
"What did he look like?"
* * * * *
Stiffy leaned across the table and wagged a forefinger solemnly.
"Mister, you won't believe me when I tell you. But it's the truth,
so help me. He had a beak. And eyes. Danged if them eyes weren't
something. Like they were reaching out and trying to grab you. Not
really reaching out, you know. But there was something in them that
tried to talk to you. Big as plates and they shimmered like there was
fire inside of them.
"These dod-rotted rock-blasters here laughed at me when I told them
about it. Insinuated I held the truth lightly, they did. Laughed their
fool heads off.
"It's pretty near as big as a house ... that animal, and it's got a
body like a barrel. It's got a long neck and a little head with big
teeth. It's got a tail, too, and it's kind of set close to the ground.
You see, I was out looking for the Lost Mine."
"Lost Mine?"
"Sure, ain't you ever heard of the Lost Mine?"
Stiffy blew beer in amazement.
Oliver Meek shook his head, feeling that probably he was the victim of
tales reserved for the greenest of the tenderfeet, not knowing what he
could do about it if he were.
Stiffy settled more solidly in his chair.
"The Lost Mine story," he declared, "has been going around for years.
Seems a couple of fellows found it a few years after the first dome was
built. They came in and told about it, stocked up with grub and went
out. They never did come back."
He leaned across the table.
"You know what I think?" he demanded gustily.
"No," said Meek. "What do you think?"
"The Prowler got 'em," Stiffy said, triumphantly.
"But how could there be a lost mine?" asked Meek. "Asteroid City was
one of the first mining domes built out here. There was no prospecting
done until about that time."
Stiffy shook his head, waggling his beard.
"How should I know," he defended himself. "Maybe some early space
traveler set down here, dug a mine, never got back to Earth to tell
about it."
"But Juno is only one hundred and eighteen miles in diameter," Meek
argued. "If there had been a mine someone would have found it."
Stiffy snorted. "That's all you know about it, stranger. Only one
hundred and eighteen miles, sure ... but one hundred and eighteen miles
of the worst danged country man ever set a boot on. Mostly up and down."
The drinks came, the bartender slapping them down on the table before
them. Meek gasped first at their price, then choked on the drink
itself. But he smothered the choke manfully and asked:
"What kind of stuff is this?"
"_Bocca_," replied Stiffy. "Good old Martian _bocca_. Puts hair on your
chest."
He gulped his drink with gusto, blew noisily through his whiskers, eyed
Meek disapprovingly.
"Don't you like it?" he demanded.
"Sure," lied Meek. "Sure I like it."
He shut his eyes and poured the liquor into his mouth, gulped fiercely,
desperately, almost strangling.