The Patrolman intervened quietly. "You know you cannot return to Earth, Captain Thorne."
"I know, sir. I request passage for this consignment only."
"What is it ... t'ang?" Martineau asked, brutally, pushing roughly at the box.
A grim smile touched Thorne's dry lips. "No, sir. It is a little over an ounce of—petrified Vadirrian oil!"
Martineau leaped erect with a strangled cry, his face going crimson with anger. The Superintendent, having known what was in the box, made no sound but watched them with a grim smile.
"If this is a joke, you bush-bum," choked the Port Captain, "I'll see personally you suffer for it, Thorne. The hard way. You dare come here and—"
"It is not a joke, sir," broke in Bannerman, at last. "We have been notified of this strike. It is registered in our files and the specimen is entirely genuine. I recommend that Captain Thorne's request be fulfilled." His voice was crisp and clear.
Martineau sagged, staring at the little box. "But—but there's a fortune there, sir. Thousand on thousands—where did this—this man locate such a treasure? The Martian government has been notified?"
"All necessary steps have been taken, sir," Thorne smiled. "The declared value of this specimen is one hundred and eighty-two thousand credits. Proper amounts have been forwarded to the Vulhan General Hospital, with others to Loxthal City, Andobre, Vlax, and New Luna. This is directed to the Universal Laboratories at New Yatt, North America, vested in the name of Miss Helen Thurland."
"You make no claim to accompanying it?"