"You'll catch one," I promised.
Jason Woods Stevenson beamed on me. "Oh, to hell with Spaceman's. I want to catch one because I never have. I've caught everything on Earth that the law lets you catch, boys. I was up at Venus Joe's last year and took the legal limit of everything but Wompan. Never even saw a Wompan. Boys," he said, "you've got yourself a customer."
He came down again and strode quickly across the quadrangle toward the wood platform which would serve as the foundation of his tent, keeping it above the ooze and mud. He was whistling cheerfully and he smiled again, the grin bisecting his face from ear to ear. If he had anything on his mind besides Wompan—it was Wompan skin. Whatever Wompan skin looked like.
"Aren't you forgetting something, sir?" Harry said.
"I don't think so, boys. Am I?"
Harry nodded. "Your daughter?" he said.
Mr. Stevenson's jaw dropped a foot. "The girl!" he cried. "I almost forgot about her." He wasn't smiling now. "If her mother ever learned I took her to a place like this, with absolutely no civilized conveniences...."
"But with Wompan," I said.
He sighed. "Ginger!" he called. "You can come on out now, Ginger honey."
Harry and I waited for Ginger to make her appearance. After a decent interval she came gracefully out of the hatch. She was young and red-haired and pretty. She was built the way a girl ought to be built and she had a million dollar smile. The smile was for Harry Conger. Right away she liked Harry. She was nice enough to me in a spoiled little rich girl way, but Harry, was, as they say, her cup of tea. She went walking off with him toward the stockade to get her first lesson in Venusian fauna while Mr. Stevenson and I pitched their tent.