he said--de liar! At long last I get him to make a price. But, on
condition dat he bring ze animals around to my inn in the morning, for a
private audition."

"I suppose," I interrupted, "you were beginning to have some doubts as
to the Martian's good faith? After all, a talking _tllooll_ and a
talking _shiyooch'iid_ all at one time is quite a lot to ask. I would
have--"

"Blease, vriend, blease!" interrupted my companion. "Do you not t'ink
old Dworken knows dese things? Of course he does! I t'ink. De owner, he
is pulling a fake, I guess. I know dat animals do not really talk.

"Next morning, I t'ink he no show up. But no, I am mistaken. Bromptly at
nine o'clock he come to my inn with a little dogcart, wit' de animals.
He puts dem on de stage in de bar of de inn. They act like before."

"But they didn't talk, of course?"

"Oh, my vriend, dat's where you are wrong. Dey talk like nobotty's
business. De jokes are funnier than ever. Even dirtier, maybe. But
Dworken is not fooled. He t'ink. 'Aha!' I say to de Martian, 'You fake
this, what? De animals not talk. Suppose you have them do de act while
you outside stay, what?' Then I t'ink I have him.

"Ze Martian tear his curly hair, flash his black eyes. He takes insult
that I t'ink he is fake. 'Name of de Martian gods!' he cry. But at last
he agree to go away, and tell animals to go ahead."

"Dworken, you were a sap to string along with him even that far," I said
wearily. "I hope you hadn't paid the guy any money."

He shook his head. "No, my old and best," he said. "Dworken no fool is,
even on Mars. No, no money. But wait! De animals go on without the
owner. Same stage business, same talk, same jokes, and even funnier
yedt. What?"

I started at Dworken. He did not smile, but finished off the eleventh
_shchikh_--the fifth I had bought him.

"Listen," I said. "Are you sitting there telling me you have a _tllooll_
and a _shiyooch'iid_ that can really talk?"

"You listen, my vriend. Like you, I t'ink something is wrong. I say to
Martian owner, 'My vriend, maybe I buy your act, if you tell me how it
is done. But you know as well as I do dat it is impossible to dese
animals to talk. Tell me what is de trick?'"

Dworken lifted his glass and shook it, as though he could not believe it
was empty, then looked at me questioningly. I shook my head. He snorted,
looked melancholy, writhed up from his chair and reached for his fur
cape.

"Vell, thanks for de drinks," he said