"Did you see how Ginger's whole face lights up when she smiles?"
"Harry," I pleaded. "We have a book inside. It isn't much, but it tells everything anybody knows about a Wompan. What they do. How they kill people. How to capture them, if they can be captured. Harry, we're no hunters. Since Wompan is the solar system's most dangerous game, wouldn't you say that puts us at a slight disadvantage? Wouldn't you, Harry old boy?"
"She's really got a sense of humor too, Gil. For a rich kid, she's simple and unaffected and—"
"Let's go inside and look at that Wompan book."
"I'll be along in a while." He waved at air. He wasn't looking at me. He wasn't thinking about Wompans or even Venus on the Half Shell. He was six thousand parsecs away and still running. I sighed and went inside. I burned the midnight oil learning what there was to learn about Wompans.
In the morning it was raining. Harry didn't seem to care. He had that moonstruck grin on his face and I was sure the Stevensons, father and daughter, noticed it. They were too polite to say anything about it, though, and Ginger Stevenson did seem friendly toward Harry.
"Do we try it in the rain?" Jason Woods Stevenson asked me. He wore a poncho which covered him .30-.30 rifle and all. He looked like a small tent with a head on top, but it was practical. Ginger wore a transparent raincoat which showed her nice sports clothing and nicer figure. It wasn't practical, but Ginger was a girl.
"Yes, sir," I said. "We try it in the rain."
And off we marched to find ourselves a Wompan.