Staang snickered. "You call us 'Man's Best Friend,' I believe," he offered.
Braun gasped, "Dogs."
"Of course," Nance said. "Notice Staang's droopy ears, the long nose, his hands and feet resemble paws. And since Earth's gravity is greater than Mars', wouldn't that tend to pull a person's arms toward the ground, making them essentially four-footed, instead of two-armed and two-legged as Staang still is.
"That's what happened to the Martians when they came to Earth, but I don't suppose they cared. It probably made it easier to walk, and they got what they wanted. After all, don't we feed the dogs, provide them a place to sleep. They have no real work to do, and only a few are mistreated. Hounds and others of that type must be the slaves Staang is speaking of. The poodles, terriers, and cockers—those strictly pets—must be the higher type." He almost choked when he got to cocker. He tried not to think of Mimsy as an invader, with him as her slave, but he realized that it amounted to that. Now the landlady was being her slave.
Braun couldn't restrain another wild laugh as he stared at Staang. "Why, he is a St. Bernard," he roared.
A bewildered expression covered Boone's stern face. "The irony," he gasped. "But you're right. The dogs do lead the kind of life on Earth that would be desirable to creatures grown too lazy to even think. But to imagine that the ancestors of our dogs once built this city. It's incredible."
"Good Lord," Braun remarked. "Here we have been expecting and talking about invasions from Mars for years, and we'd already been invaded centuries ago. What a laugh they must have had."
Staang was listening in obvious amusement. "Our invasion was logical," he said. "Done in a way so as not to offend anyone. Although one creature has resented our invasion and fought as continually. It is called a flea, I believe. But the records say men have done everything possible to rid us of this pest."
"Even the great rulers of your land, who are waited on hand and foot, are servants of we Martians."
Boone raised his hand for silence. His features were crestfallen. His expedition had not uncovered what Earth would be glad to hear. "We must go," he said, but the old authority was gone from his voice.