"Seriatim," I told him, "bridge and lake. So what's that got to do with the present situation? The problem before the board is—"
"I was just wondering," commented Biggs, "how there should be a lake on the planetoid Iris—and why? As we know, there are no natural bodies of water on this tiny orb. Therefore they must be artificial—"
"All right," growled the skipper, "so they're phoney! Maybe Steichner's got a sense of beauty!"
"Sure," I agreed. "What he likes best is a lovely dagger, attractively decorated with nice, fresh blood. Cap's right, Biggs. We're not here to marvel at the scenic wonders of Iris. We've got a job to do, and we're getting nowhere—fast!"
"You mean," said Biggs, "our excavations? I've been thinking about that, too. And it is beginning to make sense to me. You know my motto, Sparks: 'Get the theory first!' I think I've solved the theory, now. The only thing which still remains is to put it into practice. But that lake—"
"You've solved it, Lanse, son?" broke in the Old Man eagerly. "Fine! Fine! I knew you wouldn't let us down. So what do we do?"
"Well, we must ask McMurtrie to rig up a hydraulic drill, first of all. Then we must—"
"Drill! To dig pumice? Son, you must be—"
Biggs shuffled embarrassedly.
"Well, it was only an idea, sir. Of course if you'd rather we can delve into the matter of that lake—"