I bolted the door behind us and seated myself at the table always kept there for various games of chance.
"Mousie" nervously assumed a seat and sat staring at me, his big, milky-blue eyes blinking nearsightedly and a withered, vein-covered hand tweaking incessantly at a bedraggled gray mustache.
"I'm Professor August Q. Twilken," he essayed. "I have a formula."
"And I'm Tod Mulhane, as you seem to know, and I have a couple of great big ears, open and waiting. What can I do for you, Twilken?"
Twilken's face suddenly became grim and the milkiness left his eyes a moment, to disclose dancing, hard lights of determination.
"Nothing for me, Mr. Mulhane," he said slowly. "This is for the world! Yes, for three worlds!"
I nodded patiently, thinking maybe I had a nut on my hands.
"Of course, Twilken. And just what is it we're going to do for these worlds?"
"We're going to save them from the coming Interplanetary War!" Twilken said forcefully. "Here's the way things—er—stack up. We know Jupiter, Saturn and Uranus have their armies poised for a quick thrust at the Allied Worlds—Mars, Earth and Neptune. But, so far, they have hesitated, knowing both sides are pretty well matched in strength and fearing the assault might be drawn out in a long, destructive conflict that would gain them nothing. They won't wait forever, however, and, sooner or later, they'll find a weakness in the Allied Worlds' armor and strike with all the force at their command. Mr. Mulhane, the Allied Worlds must be the ones to break this deadlock. We must be the ones to gain an edge in strength and force them to disarm, or be destroyed by the ruthless machine of the brain behind their mad plot. But, I forget, you know all of this, Mr. Mulhane."
"Tod's the name," I said absently. "Yes, I know all about Xan VIII's scheme to defeat the Allied Worlds. So what? There's nothing I can do about it. Naturally, being a Martian, I am anxious to see the Allied Worlds win. But I can't see—"