piral going out from
Venus and around the table to the orbit of Saturn? Well, if Venus
stops within that six-inch zone where the spiral starts _and_ if
Saturn is near where it ends, you scoop in the stardust."

Meadows fingered his mustache as he examined the table.

"I ... ah ... suppose the closer you come, the more you win, eh?"

"That's the theory. Most people are glad to get anything back. It's
honest enough, but the odds are terrific."

A couple of spacers made room for us, and I watched Meadows play for a
few minutes. The operator grinned when he saw me watching. He had a
lean, pale face and had been an astrogator until his heart left him in
need of Martian gravity.

"No coaching, Tony!" he kidded me.

"Stop making me look like a partner in the place!" I answered.

"Thought one night you were going to be.... No winners, gentlemen.
Next bets!"

* * * * *

The spheres had come to rest with Pluto near one end of a lavender
spiral and Mercury touching the inner end, but no one had had the
insanity to bet that way. Meadows began to play inner planet
combinations that occasionally paid, though at short odds. He made a
bit on some near misses, and I decided to have a drink while he lost
it.

I found Howlet, Konnel, and Lilac Malone in the bar admiring the
red-bronze landscape. When he heard about Meadows, Howlet smiled.

"If it isn't fixed, they better prepare to abandon," he laughed.
"People look at that face and won't believe he always collects half
the ship's pay."

Lilac saw a chance to do her duty, and suggested that we all go in to
support Meadows. I stayed with my drink until Jorgensen drifted in to
have a couple with me and talk of the old days.

After a while, one of his helpers came up and murmured something into
his big red ear. He shrugged and waved his hand.

The next time it happened, about twenty minutes later, I was on the
point of matching him with a story about a petrified ancient Martian
that the domers at Schiaparelli dug out of a dry canal. Jorgensen
lowered his faded eyebrows and strode off like a bear on egg-shells,
leaving me there with the unspoken punch line about what they were
supposed to have dug up with the Martian.

_Well, that build-up was wasted_, I thought.

* * * * *

Quite a number of sandeaters, as time passed, seemed to drift in and
out of the back room. Finally, Howlet showed up again.

"How'd you