"There's a gaggle of natives outside in assorted shades," said Pat Reed the next day. "They want to play ball. Moahlo's at their head. He carved a bat."
"Tell them to beat it. We're busy."
"Let's give them some fun while we can. They won't enjoy life much after King Rat gets back here."
"That's the truth," Bill agreed. "All right."
"I wish your painted idiots would get over their baseball mania," complained Rudy Peters, the mineralogist, two days later. "Look me over carefully, will you, Bill? I think my throwing arm just dropped off."
"They're nutty about it, all right," Bill Bradley said. "Too bad it couldn't have been about something with some economic value."
