"We've neglected you shamefully, Tommy," Mrs. Ashley said. "We've gone poking around in buried cities without realizing that the Martians never had it so good. A living son and daughter are worth all of the archeological treasures on Earth. Why shouldn't they be worth even more on Mars?"
"Your mother's right," Dr. Ashley said. "It's a brave, new world, and there are so many shining roads ahead we'd be crazy not to go jogging along them together."
Mr. Caxton stood for a moment just outside the shack listening to the children's excited voices rejoicing in a reunion he was powerless to spoil.
He stood swaying and cursing, telling himself that he had been quite mad to let the Ashleys make him look like a fool.
Peter had lied about the bird, hadn't he? Deliberately made the whole thing up for the sole purpose of ruining his reputation as a kindly and tolerant man whose only fault was a certain severity of temper which he could not always control.
For a moment Mr. Caxton fingered his bruised jaw, and remembered with a shudder the look of quite unreasoning fury in Mrs. Ashley's eyes. Then he straightened his shoulders, shook his fist at the empty air, and started back toward his own shack.
Mr. Caxton did not get far.
At first all he saw was a weaving blur in the darkness a few yards ahead of him, and all he felt was a chill wind blowing up his spine. He thought for a moment that the blur was casting an actual shadow, and that terrifyingly in the darkness there had appeared for the barest instant the glitter and gleam of claws.
But that, of course, was nonsense. Having quickly persuaded himself that he was in no danger Mr. Caxton confidently increased his stride, and did not realize that he was in the presence of Peter's bird until it was breathing at his side.
Peter's Martian bird! The instant Mr. Caxton felt its breath fanning his cheeks on both sides of his oxygen mask he leapt back with a wild, despairing cry.