“Oh, this?” the old man asked, taking out the rusted miniature model. “This is nothing but an old relic of mine when I was a space hand myself on a freighter. I carry it with me sometimes, because it gives me a feeling of confidence.”
Hugh chuckled as a vast feeling of relief came over him. “You certainly had us fooled, Mr. Benasco. We thought surely you were a stamp thief out to steal our valuable stamps.”
“Perhaps my methods have puzzled you somewhat,” Mr. Benasco declared. “But I had to see those rarities before you got rid of them. Somebody might have bought them before I could. Perhaps Mr. Elfs would have held them out for his own collection. You must sell them to me, young man! I believe I should die if I could not get them! Stamps represent the only pleasure that is left to me.”
“All right, Mr. Benasco, since it means so much to you,” Hugh agreed, smiling. “Being a hobbyist myself, I know what a hold stamps can have on a person. We’ll take the portfolios back to our compartment and discuss the stamps you want. But if my father or Mr. Elfs complains about this, you’ll have to share the blame.”
“Gladly, gladly,” was the willing reply. “Do you mind telling us why you’re going to Mars, Mr. Benasco?” Link asked.
“I’ve got a son there working on a canal project. He invited me and my stamp collection to come and stay as long as I liked, since I had lived with my other son so long in the States. I thought it was nice of him.”
As Hugh and Link were leading the way out of the room, the portfolios safely tucked under their arms, Hugh remarked in a whisper to his pal, “Link, I’ll never prejudge another person as long as I live.”
Link stole a look back at Mr. Benasco who was clicking along behind and smiling rapturously. “That calls for a mutual pledge, Hugh,” Link replied soberly, with a shake of his head. “Let’s shake on it.”
And they did.