Hugh got up and went to the door. As he walked, his magnetic-sole shoes rasped against the metallic floor like a knife being honed. He opened the door.
A man with the face and build of a leprechaun looked at Hugh. His pale but alert blue eyes peered steadily into Hugh’s. Hugh also began to wonder why this customer at Davone’s Philatelic Shop should be making the voyage to Mars with them.
“Yes, sir?” Hugh asked.
“May I come in?” the man asked. “My name is Oscar Benasco.”
Hugh hesitated, thinking about the valuable cargo, then he replied reluctantly, “Yes.”
“Your father certainly has a fine shop, Hugh Davone,” the elderly man said brightly as he entered. “However, I was disappointed to find out that he had packed up some of his choicest space items and was selling them to Mr. Elfs, a dealer on Mars.”
“You know quite a lot, Mr. Benasco,” Link remarked coolly.
“Yes, I pride myself on my shrewdness,” Mr. Benasco replied in a modest manner. His roving eyes came to rest on the boys’ albums. “I see you two have collections of your own.”
“Nothing very valuable,” Hugh replied. “But we enjoy our stamps just the same.”
“Ah, yes,” Benasco said. His eyes brightened with eagerness and he placed the tips of his outspread fingers together. “Speaking of valuable items—those you are taking to Mars—no doubt you keep them in your compartment safe. I wonder if you might show them to me?”