There was still one Uvan following. Bill swore and tried to urge his feet on. Then, suddenly, the lone Uvan whizzed past them and came to a stop a short distance ahead. He stared back at Bill and Kitty, looking bewildered.
"Wait a second," murmured Bill, breathing heavily. "This may be a trick. Have you got your gun, Kitty?"
The girl shook her head.
The Uvan approached slowly, staring at Bill and the girl in friendly, though puzzled fashion. He was about an inch shorter than the average Uvan, sort of important looking and with his lavender eyes set close to the top of his head.
When he had come within ten feet, he halted again. "Please," he asked. "Who are we chasing?"
Bill's jaw sagged with surprise.
"You mean you don't know why you were running?" he demanded.
The Uvan shook his grape-clustered head. "I did know when I started, but I forgot," he answered apologetically. "I suppose you're Earthfolks. That's nice. My name's Olé. I'm chief editor of the Uvan Clarion."
"So you publish a paper here?" Kitty smiled.
"Yes, when we remember. How about letting me show you around?"