but there was no point in resorting to that expedient when
a plentiful supply of pure H_{2}O was available on the world.

"A very understandable error, sir. Harkaway explained it to me. It seems
the word for water, _m'koog_, is very similar to the word for wine,
_mk'oog_. Harkaway himself admits his pronunciation isn't perfect and--"

"All right," Iversen interrupted. "What I'd like to know is what
happened to the _mk'oog_, then--"

"The m'koog, you mean? It's in the tanks."

"--because, when they came to drain the wine out of the tanks to put the
water in, the tanks were already totally empty."

"I have no idea," the first officer said frostily, "no idea at all. If
you'll glance at my papers, you'll note I'm Temperance by affiliation,
but if you'd like to search my cabin, anyway, I--"

"By Miaplacidus, man," Iversen exclaimed, "I wasn't accusing you! Of
that, anyway!"

Everybody on the vessel was so confoundedly touchy. Lucky they had a
stable commanding officer like himself, or morale would simply go to
pot.

* * * * *

"Well, it's all over," Harkaway said, joining them up at the airlock in
one lithe bound--a mean feat in that light gravity. "And a right good
speech, if I do say so myself. The Flimflim says he will count the
thlubbzik with ardent expectation until the mission from Earth arrives
with the promised gifts."

"Just what gifts did you take it upon yourself to--" Iversen began, when
he was interrupted by a voice behind them crying, "Woe, woe, woe!"

And, thrusting himself past the three other officers, Dr. Smullyan
addressed the flim'puu, or farewell committee, assembled outside the
ship. "Do not let the Earthmen return to your fair planet, O happily
ignorant Flimbotzik," he declaimed, "lest wretchedness and misery be
your lot as a result. Tell them, 'Hence!' Tell them, 'Begone!' Tell
them, 'Avaunt!' For, know ye, humanity is a blight, a creeping canker--"

He was interrupted by the captain's broad palm clamping down over his
mouth.

"Clap him in the brig, somebody, until we get clear of this place,"
Iversen ordered wearily. "If Harkaway could pick up the Flimbotzi
language, the odds are that some of the natives have picked up Terran."

"That's right, always keep belittling me," Harkaway said sulkily as two
of the crewmen carried off the struggling medical officer, who left an
aromatic wake behind him that bore pungent testimonial to where a part,
at least, of