"Well, consider for a moment. They have no sports at all, you know. Wouldn't be possible. Telepathy. They'd know three moves ahead what their opponents were about to do. Telekinesis. They could move a piece or a ball or what-have-you without touching a finger to it. They - "
"I think I see," said Bishop.
"So we plan to get up some teams and put on exhibition matches. Drum up as much enthusiasm as we can. They'll come out in droves to see it. Pay admission. Place bets. We, of course, will play the bookies and rake off our commissions. It will be a good thing while it lasts."
"It won't last, of course."
Monty gave Bishop a long look.
"You catch on fast," he said. "You'll get along."
"Drinks, gentlemen," the cabinet said.
Bishop got the drinks, gave one of them to his visitor.
"You better let me put you down," said Monty. "Might as well rake in what you can. You don't need to know too much about it."
"All right," Bishop told him, agreeably. "Go ahead and put me down."