red desk
sergeant. Memories are tender documents from past experience, and
Denver's experiences had induced extreme sensitivity about jails.
Especially Crystal City's jail.

Briefly, he acquainted irritable officialdom with details of his find
in the Appenines. The sergeant was fat, belligerent and
unphilosophical.

"You stink," said the sergeant, twisting his face into more repulsive
suggestion of a distorted rubber mask.

Tod Denver tried to continue. The sergeant cut him off with a rude
suggestion.

"So what?" added the official. "Suppose you did run into a murder. Do
I care? Maybe you killed the old guy yourself and are trying to cover
up. I don't know."

He scowled speculatively at Denver who waited and worried.

"Forget it," went on the sergeant. "We ain't got time to chase down
everybody that knocks off a lone prospector. There's a lot of punks
like you I'd like to bump myself right here in Crystal City. Even if
you're telling the truth I don't believe you. If you'd thought he had
something valuable you'd have swiped it yourself, not come running to
us. Don't bother me. If you got something, snag it. If not, shove
it--"

The suggestion was detailed, anatomical.

Charley giggled amiably. Startled, the sergeant looked up and caught
sight of the monstrosity. He shrieked.

"What's that?"

"Charley, my moondog," Denver explained. "They're quite scarce here."

Charley made eerie, chittering noises and settled on Denver's
shoulder, waiting for his master to stroke the filaments of his blunt
head.

"Looks like a cross between a bird and a carrot. Try making him scarce
from my office."

"Don't worry, he's housebroke."

"Don't matter. Get him out of here, out of Crystal City. We have an
ordinance against pets. Unhealthy beasts. Disease-agents. They foul up
the atmosphere."

"Not Charley," Denver argued hopelessly. "He's not animal; he's a
natural air-purifier. Gives off ozone."

"Two hours you've got to get him out of here. Two hours. Out of town.
I hope you go with him. If he don't stink, you do. If I have any
trouble with either of you, you go in the tank."

Tod Denver gulped and held his nose. "Not your tank. No thanks. I want
a hotel room with a tub and shower, not a night in your glue factory.
Come on, Charley. I guess you sleep in the ship."

Charley grinned evilly at the sergeant. He gave out chuckling sounds,
as if meditating. To escape disaster Tod Denver snatched him up and
fled.