"Silence!" roared the old man, and frowned. "Your foul den is a stench in the nostrils of Heaven. I am tiring swiftly of your iniquitous ways, Xuerl! One day I—shall—who started this, anyway?" he demanded.
"Thisss man!" Xuerl pointed a quavering tentacle at Chip. Salvation gazed at the young man sternly.
"You are new around here. What is your name?"
"Chip Warren. I'm just out from Earth a week or so ago. Free-lance prospector. But—but I didn't start this, sir. I merely interfered when that man and his thugs tried to steal a ball of ekalastron from this dead miner—"
Chip paused suddenly, staring at the drunken miner.
"But he's still alive! I thought—"
Salvation was at his side in an instant. They both kneeled beside the miner, whose eyes had flickered open. He was no longer influenced by drink. His eyes were clear with prevision of a longer flight than he had ever known. For a moment he struggled for breath. There was recognition in his feeble tones.
"S-salvation—"
"Peace, my son. We will take you to a hospital."