"Here, I whisper to you...." Leaning forward, Shad whispered something in Molock's ear. The human looked a little surprised and startled. "Okay," he said. "It's a deal." Then, as if some secret thought was pleasing him tremendously, he began to grin.
"I'll say it's a deal," he said.
"Boys, we go home now!" Shad Brisbee shouted.
With awed and appreciative looks at the greatest dancer they had ever seen, they went streaming away from Shad Brisbee's dancing ground.
An equally awed and appreciative Wilkerson met us in the lock. Rita was there too, but Rita wasn't awed. She climbed right up into Molock's arms. "Did you get the pics?" he asked her.
"I got them, darling."
"Then we've got the world by the tail, honey. We've got the world by the tail."
It took two weeks to get our ship repaired. During this time, Molock was a mighty busy man, both taking pictures of his own selection and spending hours each day with Shad Brisbee. In spite of the fact that he had been licked, Shad harbored no animosity. He and Molock struck up a beautiful friendship.
When we finally got the ship repaired and was about ready to take off, a ship arrived from headquarters, carrying a most important visitor, a Mr. George Cooper, head of publicity. Wearing beautiful clothes, his fingers manicured, delicately perfumed—for he was a sensitive man—he descended from the lock.
Molock and Shad Brisbee greeted him.