nks, setting on the table.
Each took his own. "Well," Erickson said, holding his glass up. "To our
mutual success."

* * * * *

All drank, Thacher and the three of them, heavy-set Erickson, Mara, her
eyes nervous and alert, Jan, who had just come. Again a look passed
between Mara and Erickson, a look so swift that he would not have caught
it had he not been looking directly at her.

"What line do you represent, Mr. Erickson?" Thacher asked.

Erickson glanced at him, then down at the sample case on the floor. He
grunted. "Well, as you can see, I'm a salesman."

Thacher smiled. "I knew it! You get so you can always spot a salesman
right off by his sample case. A salesman always has to carry something
to show. What are you in, sir?"

Erickson paused. He licked his thick lips, his eyes blank and lidded,
like a toad's. At last he rubbed his mouth with his hand and reached
down, lifting up the sample case. He set it on the table in front of
him.

"Well?" he said. "Perhaps we might even show Mr. Thacher."

They all stared down at the sample case. It seemed to be an ordinary
leather case, with a metal handle and a snap lock. "I'm getting
curious," Thacher said. "What's in there? You're all so tense. Diamonds?
Stolen jewels?"

Jan laughed harshly, mirthlessly. "Erick, put it down. We're not far
enough away, yet."

"Nonsense," Erick rumbled. "We're away, Jan."

"Please," Mara whispered. "Wait, Erick."

"Wait? Why? What for? You're so accustomed to--"

"Erick," Mara said. She nodded toward Thacher. "We don't know him,
Erick. Please!"

"He's a Terran, isn't he?" Erickson said. "All Terrans are together in
these times." He fumbled suddenly at the catch lock on the case. "Yes,
Mr. Thacher. I'm a salesman. We're all salesmen, the three of us."

"Then you do know each other."

"Yes." Erickson nodded. His two companions sat rigidly, staring down.
"Yes, we do. Here, I'll show you our line."

He opened the case. From it he took a letter-knife, a pencil sharpener,
a glass globe paperweight, a box of thumb tacks, a stapler, some clips,
a plastic ashtray, and some things Thacher could not identify. He placed
the objects in a row in front of him on the table top. Then he closed
the sample case.

"I gather you're in office supplies," Thacher said. He touched the
letter-knife with his finger. "Nice quality steel. Looks like Swedish
steel, to me."

Erickson nodded, looking into Thacher's f