He looked down at the planet dwindling into space below him and he laughed hysterically, thinking of the narrow escape he'd had. No more planets for him, no more trying to skin anyone.
"There it goes," the Space Patrolman said, watching the rocket rise.
Harding trembled with helpless rage. "That blasted fool Sheckly'll lead you right to the money, too," he complained.
"That's the way we planned it," the Patrolman smiled. "I must compliment our native friends on their fine acting. Your pal took off like a scared rabbit."
"Yeah," Harding grimaced, clenching his fists as though wishing he had someone's neck in them.
"Don't blame your friend too much," the Patrolman advised. "Whether you realize it or not, the fact that you were consciously avoiding our schedules caused you to follow a pattern in your visits to these outerspace planets; we just figured a bit ahead of you and posted hidden patrols on all the inhabited planets in this sector, knowing that sooner or later you'd land on one of them. We spotted your ship last night and hurried over by 'copter so we wouldn't be seen."
"Forget the synopsis," Harding growled. "You walked in when these blasted lizards were making believe they were going to skin me alive. They didn't have to act so realistic about it."
"You're wrong about one thing," the Patrolman said. "The act didn't start until after we arrived to direct it."
Harding looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean by that?"