ming out of hyperspace, and had
named the invader, calling the z'Srauff "our common enemy." The z'Srauff
Ambassador, also present, had immediately gotten up and stalked out,
amid a derisive chorus of barking and baying from the New Texans. The
New Texans were first shocked and then wildly delighted; they had been
so used to hearing nothing but inanities and high-order abstractions
from their public figures that the Solar League Ambassador had become a
hero overnight.

"Sounds as though there is a really strong sentiment at what used to be
called the grass-roots level in favor of annexation," I commented.

"There is," Parros told me. "Of course, there is a very strong
isolationist, anti-annexation, sentiment, too. The sentiment in favor
of annexation is based on the point Mr. Cumshaw made--the danger of
conquest by the z'Srauff. Against that, of course, there is fear of
higher taxes, fear of loss of local sovereignty, fear of abrogation of
local customs and institutions, and chauvinistic pride."

"We can deal with some of that by furnishing guarantees of local
self-government; the emotional objections can be met by convincing them
that we need the great planet of New Texas to add glory and luster to
the Solar League," I said. "You think, then, that Mr. Cumshaw was
assassinated by opponents of annexation?"

"Of course, sir," Thrombley replied. "These Bonneys were only hirelings.
Here's what happened, on the day of the murder:

"It was the day after a holiday, a big one here on New Texas,
celebrating some military victory by the Texans on Terra, a battle
called San Jacinto. We didn't have any business to handle, because all
the local officials were home nursing hangovers, so when Colonel Hickock
called--"

"Who?" I asked sharply.

"Colonel Hickock. The father of the young lady you were so attentive to
at the barbecue. He and Mr. Cumshaw had become great friends, beginning
shortly before the speech the Ambassador made at that banquet. He called
about 0900, inviting Mr. Cumshaw out to his ranch for the day, and as
there was nothing in the way of official business, Mr. Cumshaw said he'd
be out by 1030.

"When he got there, there was an aircar circling about, near the
ranchhouse. As Mr. Cumshaw got out of his car and started up the front
steps, somebody in this car landed it on the driveway and began
shooting with a twenty-mm auto-rifle. Mr. Cumshaw was hit several times,
and killed instantly."

"The fellows who di