"Don't mind me. I go for her type." Possett shook his head darkly and turned toward Charles. "Button, man to man, a back-country planet's no place for the ladies. Look, I'll take the thing off your hands. I can handle Burgee. Twelve thousand cold cash for your stuff and the deed, and I'll throw in a lift to New Texas. There's a liner from there."
Charles thought of the comfortable Earth and was tempted. "But I paid thirty-five," he protested uncertainly. "I mean, twelve is—"
"Take it or leave it. I'm trying to do you a favor."
"No, I guess we'll leave it," answered Betty.
Charles looked around in surprise. Her lips were compressed, her blue eyes narrowed with astonishing determination.
"We've come all this way," she declared, "so we might as well keep it. I think it has—well, possibilities. We've had the whole house done over and the servants remodeled. And we'll have all the DoItAll services—teleprojection, medical care, and everything else—from the New Texas substation. I'm sure we'll get along nicely."
The skipper of the Beautiful Joe wasn't pleased. "It's your necks. Don't be blaming me for what happens," he growled. "Well, where do you want to set down?"
"Set down?" gulped Charles. "R-right now?"
"Land and unload, it says in the contract. I ain't got all day. I'll dump you at Burgee's old landing, load up with fresh water, and blast off for New Texas."
Charles had no other spot in mind.