... The sphere seemed to quiver. Suddenly it sagged, flattened out without a sound, its sphericity gone. The Speaker uttered a cry, and dashed his hands to his face, gulping in as much of the precious stuff as he could before it dribbled away from his hands. The Japanese and Spanish Governors turned rapidly to faucets, and the water, clear, sparkling, normal, streamed out....
For a short time the three of them were like animals. Then, gradually, they stopped drinking, and stood back, slightly ashamed.
The Spanish Governor said, suggestively, "We'd better get that ship fished out before the Martians realize they are not going to get water after all. Otherwise—"
The Speaker nodded. He turned away, to go into his study, when he stumbled over the prone body of Olduk, the Martian. A twinge of guilt assailed him. He stooped and turned Olduk over.
Olduk's double-lidded eyes were open. Olduk's skin was as dry as his native sands. Olduk was either dead or dying.
The Speaker troubledly called a doctor. The doctor made a brief examination, handling the body distastefully. Suddenly he stifled an exclamation.
"I can't believe this!" he said hoarsely. He got to his feet, stared first at the Speaker, then at Olduk again.
"Do you know what he died from?" he stammered. "Do you know, gentlemen!"
And the Speaker knew.