It was three days since I had shaved, and I must have presented an uncanny sight. In fact, the Chief had intimated as much, as I got aboard his kerkool. So, when Poblath saw me, his jaw dropped, and he seemed convulsed with fear.
“Go away, dead man,” he begged. “I confess it all. I did hire the ant-man to assassinate you. But, now that you have my confession, return in peace to the land beneath the boiling seas, and leave me alone!”
So that was why I had been kidnaped. Well, at least it let Yuri out of being an absolute fool.
“Poblath, old friend,” I replied, “I am not dead. The ant-man lost me in the fog. And I have returned, not to curse you, but rather to thank you, for you have saved me from an unwished marriage.”
And then I got across the explanation, which he had so long denied me. When I had finished, there was no longer any doubt in Poblath’s mind that I was still his friend; and he warmly patted my jaw, the conventional Porovian token of friendship.
But I fancied that his sweetheart, Bthuh, would not be so easy to appease.
From the jail I went to my rooms for a shave and a clean toga, and then repaired to the garage where I had rented the kerkool, my intention being to try and arrange to pay for the loss on the installment plan.
But to my surprise, the kerkooloolo informed me that my kerkool had been found, with its gyros still running, standing beside the wrecked ant-car, and had been brought back to Kuana intact, so that all I owed was an extra day’s rent, for which he would gladly trust me until next ticket-day.
On returning again to my rooms, I found a messenger with a peremptory summons to attend the king forthwith, in spite of the fact that it was now nearly time for the evening meal. Evidently, old Kew had heard of my return.
He had! When I entered the audience chamber, I entered the presence of an awful wrath. Kew was seated on his royal couch, and standing beside him was a she-woofus named Bthuh. Never before had I so stirred a woman’s rage, and I hope never to do so again.