"We'll have to get him. Miles, Schick, come along. Forbes! You all right?"
"Ho-ho-ho! Seventeen! Seventeen! Seventeen planets, Benson, and they'll do anything I say! This one's got a mind of its own. Did you see that little trick with the rocks? Ho-ho!"
"See if you can find his gun, Schick; he'll either kill himself or one of us. Tie his hands and take him back to the ship. We'll be along shortly."
"Hah-hah-hah! Seventeen! Benson, I'm holding you personally responsible for this. Hee-hee!"
Purnie opened his eyes as consciousness returned. Had his friends gone?
He pulled himself along on his stomach to a position between two rocks, where he could see without being seen. By the light of the twin moons he saw that they were leaving, marching away in groups of two and three, the weak helping the weaker. As they disappeared around the curving shoreline, the voices of the last two, bringing up the rear far behind the others, fell faintly on his ears over the sound of the surf.
"Is it possible that we're all crazy, Captain?"
"It's possible, but we're not."
"I wish I could be sure."