"I'm sorry, my boy. But I warned you it would be difficult. Men see no farther than the ends of their noses."
"Maybe not," grated Gary, "but they hear ... oh, God, how they hear! That's what killed our chances. Somehow or other they got a rumor of what was in the wind. They had been warned in advance of who I was and what I wanted; when I started explaining, showing my photographs, they just sat back and smirked at me with that 'Yes, yes, we know all about it; isn't it a pity that one so young should be deranged?' look on their smug, complacent faces."
"Heard of it?" cried Nora. "But how could they have heard of it?"
Lane shook his head doggedly. "That's what I've been asking myself ever since I left the Council Hall. To the best of my knowledge, not a living soul knows our secret except us five."
"And," reminded Dr. Anjers, "one other."
"One other?"
"The marauder in the observatory."
Lane was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. "That's right. I'd almost forgotten. Their ambassador. It's his diabolic hand again. It must be. Lord, if we had only caught him that day. If we only had some idea who he was—"
The door opened again, and Flick Muldoon burst in jubilantly. "Great howling snakes, folks, look who I found wandering around down on the streets like a roaming comet! That old star-shooting son-of-a-gun himself—Oh, golly, Gary! You're back! What'd they say, pal? Do we get the ship? Is everything set?"