shut! I don't really know
why, probably kind of an Earthman's Burden, noblesse oblige ... you
know ... something like the sort of thing Kipling used to write
about."

"Hell," she said, surprising him with her vehemence, "you don't
believe that guy any more than I do. It was old when Kipling wrote it
and it's even older now. I think that somewhere under that tough Irish
skin of yours, there's a sentimental fool hiding."

She was still closer now with her hands pressed lightly against his
chest and suddenly his arms went around her, he lifted her protective
visor and forced his lips down hard on hers. All of her primness had
disappeared as she leaned against him, returning his kiss with a
burning eagerness which a more experienced woman might have
controlled.

There were tears running down his cheeks and he knew they weren't his.
He released her slightly and looked down into her tear streaked face,
wondering how it was possible for them to have been at the same post
for six months without really knowing each other.

"I guess I'm kind of crazy about you, teacher," he said.

He had lifted her off her feet and she clung there with her arms
around his neck. "Terrence, I can't leave you ... I...."

As Terrence bent over to kiss her again there was a loud cough and
Bill Fielding was standing there dressed in full battle armor. He
grinned and said, "Much as I hate to break this up, I don't think
Chapelle is going to hold the _Sun Maid_ much longer."

Terrence set Joan gently on her feet and she turned and fled toward
the waiting ship. He watched until she was on board and then turned to
stare at Bill. Still grinning broadly, Bill clapped him on the
shoulder as he said, "I could never have faced those bartenders on
Dobi Street if I had gone back without you. We better get going,
hadn't we? Sergeant Polasky's down with the men. He couldn't bear to
leave his Bannings."

"Well, I'll be damned!" was all O'Mara could find to say as he watched
the big airship lift itself in the fading light, circle and pass
through the smoke of Dust Bin for the last time.

* * * * *

Throwing their gear over their shoulders, the two officers crossed the
parade ground to where the two hundred khaki clad figures of the
Narakan Rifles stood waiting with Sergeant Polasky clucking slightly
as he fussed over his Bannings.

O'Shaughnessy was wearing his new lieutenant bars and a pith helmet
and was carrying a larg