The Old Man didn't know. He was as much in the dark as a blindfolded mole in a blackout. But he bluffed it through.
"Why," he said calmly, "under Regulation 19, section xvii of the spacecode, of course. To protect our property."
"Property?" roared Steichner. "What property? Don't try to pretend to me, sir, that you have succeeded in finding pumice on this terrain!"
I broke in, "So you even knew what we were searching for, eh, Steichner?"
"Naturally. I leave nothing to chance, gentlemen—nothing. Before your ship left Earth, I had been advised as to the trick by means of which you intended to gain a foothold on this asteroid. And care was taken that the property you were allowed to 'purchase'—at a handsome price, for which I thank you, gentlemen!—held no basaltic deposits.
"Well, Captain—answer me! Have you, or have you not, unearthed any pumice deposits?"
The answer came from a few rods away. Biggs had returned from his exploring trip. Now he took over, a fact for which the skipper was obviously grateful.
"The answer, Governor Steichner, is—no. We have not!"
"Ah! Then by what right, Lieutenant, did you summon the Patrol to Iris? You realize you were given but ten days to locate and develop a heretofore undeveloped industry upon Iris? And by your own admission, you have failed to find that for which you came—"