As the jet plane flashed across their vision, the Kentons saw a tiny bundle drop from it. Pole ran out into the jungle and was under the parachute when it landed. He came back into the clearing unwrapping a package.
"It sure was thoughtful of Mr. Wattles to answer so fast," said Pole, as he opened the little package. "And will you look here in the middle! He even sent us a present!"
"It's a beautiful, plain white, rectangular carton of approximately three by seven inches," she said breathlessly.
"But we mustn't be selfish," Pole reminded hastily. "Let's see what Mr. Wattles has to say in his memorandum here first." They both read the green memorandum.
To: Napoleon B. Kenton, Special Agent, Pretzin Division, Venus
From: Chief, Pretzin Division, Venusport, Venus
Subject: Personal Problems of Special Agents
In a radio message dated January 25, 1982 you related certain personal problems you were experiencing, and you stated that delays might be encountered in your harvesting of pretzins. We regret your difficulties. However, it is believed these misfortunes may be overcome during leisure hours and should be soon resolved without loss of a measurable part of your productive time.
Pole interrupted his reading to beam at his wife. "He's sorry for us, Bliss, and he hopes things will be better for us soon."
"Isn't he the nicest man?"