ven then you're not content
to come in and sell something legitimate, something the natives might
conceivably be able to use. No, nothing so simple for you. You have to
pull your usual high-pressure stuff. And this time, buddy, you're paying
the piper."

"_You mean I'm not being extradited?_"

Meyerhoff grinned unpleasantly. "I mean precisely that. You've committed
a crime here--a major crime. The Altairians are sore about it. And the
Terran Consulate isn't willing to sell all the trading possibilities
here down the river just to get you out of a mess. You're going to stand
trial--and these natives are out to get you. Personally, I think they're
_going_ to get you."

Zeckler stood up shakily. "You can't believe anything the natives say,"
he said uneasily. "They're pathological liars. Why, you should see what
they tried to sell _me_! You've never seen such a pack of liars as these
critters." He glanced up at Meyerhoff. "They'll probably drop a little
fine on me and let me go."

"A little fine of one Terran neck." Meyerhoff grinned nastily. "You've
committed the most heinous crime these creatures can imagine, and
they're going to get you for it if it's the last thing they do. I'm
afraid, my friend, that your con-man days are over."

Zeckler fished in the other man's pocket, extracted a cigarette, and
lighted it with trembling fingers. "It's bad, then," he said finally.

"It's bad, all right."

Some shadow of the sly, elfin grin crept over the little con-man's face.
"Well, at any rate, I'm glad they sent you over," he said weakly.
"Nothing like a good lawyer to handle a trial."

"_Lawyer?_ Not me! Oh, no. Sorry, but no thanks." Meyerhoff chuckled.
"I'm your advisor, old boy. Nothing else. I'm here to keep you from
botching things up still worse for the Trading Commission, that's all. I
wouldn't get tangled up in a mess with those creatures for anything!" He
shook his head. "You're your own lawyer, Mr. Super-salesman. It's all
your show. And you'd better get your head out of the sand, or you're
going to lose a case like it's never been lost before!"

* * * * *

Meyerhoff watched the man's pale face, and shook his head. In a way, he
thought, it was a pity to see such a change in the rosy-cheeked, dapper,
cocksure little man who had talked his way glibly in and out of more
jams than Meyerhoff could count. Trading brought scalpers; it was almost
inevitable that where rich and unexploi