riting such claptrap
ever since Easton brought the _Rhinestead_ back alone."

"Cuddlehorn," said his wife. "Roger Cuddlehorn, and it's not
claptrap."

"The other members of the crew are all alive, all--"

"I suppose Easton told you that?" she interrupted.

"Yes, he did."

"Using double-talk, of course," said his wife triumphantly. At the
look on Jonathan's face, she stood up in guilty haste. "All right,
I'll go!" She blew him a kiss from the door. "Richie and I are having
lunch at one. Okay? Or would you rather have a tray in here?"

"Tray," he said, turning back to his desk and his coffee. "No, on
second thought, call me when lunch is ready. I'll need a break."

He was barely conscious of the closing of the door as Margery left the
room. Naturally he didn't take her remarks seriously, but--

He opened the folder of pictures and studied them again, along with
the interpretations by Psych, Stoughton, Ramirez and himself.

Easton had drawn the little stick figures on the first day of his
return. The interpretations all checked--and they had been done
independently, too. There it is, thought Jonathan. Easton lands the
_Rhinestead_. He and the others meet the Martians. They are impressed
by the Martians. The others stay on Mars. Easton returns to Earth,
bearing a message.

Question: What is the message?

Teeth set, Jonathan put away the pictures and went back to the tape on
the recorder. "Yes," said his own voice, in answer to Easton's
outburst. "I do--er--blikkel English. But tell me, Mr. Easton, do you
understand me?"

"Under-stand?" The man seemed to have difficulty forming the word.
"You mean--" Pause. "Dr. Blair, I murv you. Is that it?"

"Murv," repeated Jonathan. "All right, you murv me. Do you murv this?
I do not always murv what you say."

A laugh. "Of course not. How could you?" Suppressed groan. "Carooms,"
Easton had murmured, almost inaudibly. "Just when I almost murv, the
kwakut goes freeble."

Jonathan flipped the switch on the machine. "Murv" he wrote on his
pad of paper. He added "Blikkel," "Carooms" and "Freeble." He stared
at the list. He should understand, he thought. At times it seemed as
if he did and then, in the next instant, he was lost again, and Easton
was angry, and they had to start all over again.

* * * * *

Sighing, he took out more papers, notes from previous sessions, both
with himself and with other linguists. The difficulty of reaching