"Poisoned me," Shoemaker gasped, suffering himself to be hoisted limply erect.
"No, no," Davies protested. "We're trying to help you, Jimmy boy. Just go with Charley, that's right. Here, take this bottle, Charley."
Even Shoemaker was a little startled by what followed.
When they returned, Burford nodded solemnly. "It was blue, all right," he said.
"Poisoned me!" said Shoemaker, allowing himself to speak a little more emphatically.
"Oh, hell!" said Burford, lifting Shoemaker's quaking body into a chair. "So we poisoned you. We didn't mean to do it. Question is now, what's to be done?"
"Why, we've got to get him to a hospital," said Davies. "Got to start back to Earth immediately. Uh—but, Charley, will he be well enough to work on the trip?"
"It might not kill him," said Burford grimly. "But what about us? Are we going to go back empty-handed?"
"Oh, my," said Davies. "I forgot for a minute. No, we can't do that. But look here, Charley—if he dies while we're still here, how're we going to get back without him?"
"We'll have to, that's all," said Burford.