Miss Tweedham's Elogarsn
By ROBERT MOORE WILLIAMS
The choice was Miss Tweedham's. Either a thlat
and freedom—or Malovel and his esse. She chose
the latter. Dangerous, yes. But with them came
Sanderson, man among men on this desert star.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories September 1953.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
L'Sor, the Martian, said, "Why don't you humans go back to Earth? You're too soft to stay alive on Mars." He spoke good English but his voice was edged with contempt.
"Maybe you've gone soft in Sandersonville but I haven't," Ed Early answered.
"Bah!" L'Sor said. "You talk big, but Malovel will hold you in the hollow of his hands just as he holds the rest of you humans here. You humans are all alike, big talk but no action."
Early looked startled. "I don't know this Malovel," he said.
"You will know him if you are going to stay here," L'Sor said. "You will know him, and the esse. But I do not think you will remain. I think you will tuck your tail between your legs and go sneaking away like a desert jackal."