lounge and stood undecided.

"Let's sit at a table," Mara said, looking around at the people at the
bar, mostly men. "Perhaps that table over there."

"But someone's there already," Thacher said. The heavy-set business man
had sat down at the table and deposited his sample case on the floor.
"Do we want to sit with _him_?"

"Oh, it's all right," Mara said, crossing to the table. "May we sit
here?" she said to the man.

The man looked up, half-rising. "It's a pleasure," he murmured. He
studied Thacher intently. "However, a friend of mine will be joining me
in a moment."

"I'm sure there's room enough for us all," Mara said. She seated herself
and Thacher helped her with her chair. He sat down, too, glancing up
suddenly at Mara and the business man. They were looking at each other
almost as if something had passed between them. The man was middle-aged,
with a florid face and tired, grey eyes. His hands were mottled with the
veins showing thickly. At the moment he was tapping nervously.

"My name's Thacher," Thacher said to him, holding out his hand. "Bob
Thacher. Since we're going to be together for a while we might as well
get to know each other."

The man studied him. Slowly his hand came out. "Why not? My name's
Erickson. Ralf Erickson."

"Erickson?" Thacher smiled. "You look like a commercial man, to me." He
nodded toward the sample case on the floor. "Am I right?"

The man named Erickson started to answer, but at that moment there was a
stir. A thin man of about thirty had come up to the table, his eyes
bright, staring down at them warmly. "Well, we're on our way," he said
to Erickson.

"Hello, Mara." He pulled out a chair and sat down quickly, folding his
hands on the table before him. He noticed Thacher and drew back a
little. "Pardon me," he murmured.

"Bob Thacher is my name," Thacher said. "I hope I'm not intruding
here." He glanced around at the three of them, Mara, alert, watching him
intently, heavy-set Erickson, his face blank, and this person. "Say, do
you three know each other?" he asked suddenly.

There was silence.

The robot attendant slid over soundlessly, poised to take their orders.
Erickson roused himself. "Let's see," he murmured. "What will we have?
Mara?"

"Whiskey and water."

"You, Jan?"

The bright slim man smiled. "The same."

"Thacher?"

"Gin and tonic."

"Whiskey and water for me, also," Erickson said. The robot attendant
went off. It returned at once with the dri