"We have no ropes on this planet," Larhgan contributed. "We are backward."
"And a small boy went up and disappeared," Raoul finished.
Suddenly forgetting the stiff-upper-lip training for which the planet had gone to such great expense, Bbulas spun around and around in a fit of bad temper, to Skkiru's great glee. Fortunately, the Dilettante retained enough self-control to keep his feet on the ground—perhaps remembering that to fail to do so would compound Skkiru's crime.
"Dervishism!" Raoul exclaimed, his eyes incandescent with interest. He pulled out his notebook. After biting his lip thoughtfully, Cyril did the same.
"Just like Skkiru!" Bbulas gasped as he spun slowly to a stop. "He is a disruptive cultural mechanism. Leading children astray!"
"But not at all," Raoul pointed out politely. "The boy came back unharmed and in the best of spirits."
"So far as we could see," Cyril amended. "Of course there may have been psychic damage."
"Which boy was it?" Bbulas demanded.
Cyril pointed to the urchin in question—a rather well-known juvenile delinquent, though the Terrestrials, of course, couldn't know that.