Then Bill saw the cause of the disturbance. A lean, thatch-haired earthman moved through the crowd. He was dressed in a mono, the belted, coverall uniform strictly reserved for Interworld Government officials. The Uvans moved respectfully aside, opening a channel to the pillories.
He stopped directly before Bill and gazed up in a half bewildered fashion. "I'm Webster," he said. "Interworld Government representative on Uva. There's going to be a trial. I suppose you're the people up for trial?"
"A trail for what?" Bill asked.
Webster flashed Bill a disconcerted look, then turned and conferred with three official looking Uvans, some of whose eyes were at the backs of their heads. A low, earnest conversation ensued. Finally Webster fastened his eyes on Bill, appealingly.
"Do you mind telling me who's responsible?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Bill demanded, impatiently.
"Look here," said Webster, "you don't understand. There's going to be a trial. That's certain. But I might tell you for your own good, the Uvans are most absent-minded. They can't remember the charges against more than one person so I'd like to know which one of you is responsible. All of you can't be responsible. It just won't do. Now, which one of you caused the trouble?"
Bill glanced at Kitty, then at Castlebottom. Uva began to exhibit signs of unlimited promise for an alert freebooter. Bill twisted his pinioned left hand, crooking an accusing finger at Castlebottom.
"He's the trouble," said Bill. "Miss Carlton and I came together. I'll show you my credentials. We're here to get an equals for the Fuel Monopoly. This tubby chap stowed away on our ship. He's trying to smuggle liquor into Uva."
"Liquor?" A curious, tense note entered Webster's voice. "Liquor, did you say?"