"I'm not so quick on my feet any more," Johnny Coombs said, "but I got nothin' wrong with my ears." He scratched his jaw and looked up sharply at Greg. "Not many people nowadays get a chance to bargain with Merrill Tawney."
Greg shrugged. "He named a price and I didn't like it."
"Three times what the rig is worth," Coombs said.
"That's what I didn't like," Greg said. "That outfit wouldn't give us a break like that just for old times' sake. Do you think they would?"
"Well, I don't know," Johnny said slowly. "Back before they built the city here, they used to have rats getting into the grub. Came right down off the ships. Got rid of most of them, finally, but it seems to me we've still got some around, even if they've got different shapes now." He jerked his thumb toward the bedroom door. "In case you're wondering, that's why I was standin' back there all this time ... just to make sure you didn't sell out to Tawney no matter what price he offered."
Tom jumped up excitedly. "Then you know something about Dad's accident!"
"No, I can't say I do. I wasn't there."
"Do you really think it was an accident?"
"Can't prove it wasn't."
"But at least you've got some ideas," Tom said.