"That's right. He had so many patents on airlock mechanisms and space-suit gadgets and rocket control instruments that he made the goddamnedest fortune ever heard of out of space exploration. Died a few years ago."
Dudley maintained a puzzled silence.
"Seems the old man had strong ideas about that fortune," continued Fisher. "Left the bulk of it to his only granddaughter."
"That must have made headlines," Dudley commented.
"Sure did." Fisher had the cigar going, now, and he puffed economically upon it. "Especially when she ran away from home."
"Oh?" Dudley felt it coming. "Where to?"
"Here!"
Fisher held his cigar between thumb and forefinger and examined it fondly.
"Said her name was Kathi Foster instead of Kathi Forgeron. After they got around to guessing she was on Luna, and sent descriptions, we picked her up, of course. Shortly after you kicked off for Mars, in fact."
Dudley was silent. The other's shrewd little eyes glinted bluely at him through the cigar smoke.