"I am a native of Mars. Please, I must return home. Please help me.... I—"
"See!" said Blumberg. He was laughing.
The Judge nodded. "Can you handle him?" he asked.
"Sure! They get along better with me than in—other places. I know how to treat 'em; and they make a good living."
"All right," said the Judge. "Take him along. But don't let me catch him running around the streets again, or you might rate a fine."
"Don't worry! We're going on the road in a couple of days now. You won't see him again.... Well, good morning to you!"
"Good morning!" said the Judge.
The Martian lay, face down, on the leather couch. Over him stood Blumberg, breathing hard. With a light cane that he carried he struck the Martian sharply on his frail back.
"Don't try it again, or you'll get more of that!" he said softly.
The Martian did not move or utter a sound until he heard the door slam. Then he made his way to the table; and, grasping the edge, pulled himself erect. There was something on the table that he wanted....