"The Old Wise One thinks less of his wisdom," he replied wearily. "Behold!" He pointed to the enthroned Plutonian.
Morones started. His hand flashed to his side, and came away empty. Deft fingers had extracted his ray-tube. But he was a man of courage. Never could it be said to his shame that an Earthman cringed in the sight of lesser races.
"So it's you, my sooty friend!" he snarled in English. The Plutonian, accomplished linguist, replied:
"As you see. You don't look very happy, Mr. Morones."
Morones regarded him impassively, his eyes frosty.
"That explains everything," he said at last with cold deliberation. "First Sammis, then Boyd. Going to finish me next, I suppose?"
The Plutonian twisted the end of an eyebrow and smiled.
"Interested in them?"
"What'd you do with the bodies?"
The Plutonian jerked his thumb carelessly. "The river you call the Blue is swift and deep. But before you follow them there is certain information I wish to get from you. Where is the soldier who came to visit you?"