ted trading ground was uncovered,
it would first fall prey to the fast-trading boys. They spread out from
Terra with the first wave of exploration--the slick, fast-talking
con-men who could work new territories unfettered by the legal
restrictions that soon closed down the more established planets. The
first men in were the richest out, and through some curious quirk of the
Terrestrial mind, they knew they could count on Terran protection,
however crooked and underhand their methods.

But occasionally a situation arose where the civilization and social
practices of the alien victims made it unwise to tamper with them.
Altair I had been recognized at once by the Trading Commission as a
commercial prize of tremendous value, but early reports had warned of
the danger of wildcat trading on the little, musty, jungle-like planet
with its shaggy, three-eyed inhabitants--warned specifically against the
confidence tactics so frequently used--but there was always somebody,
Meyerhoff reflected sourly, who just didn't get the word.

Zeckler puffed nervously on his cigarette, his narrow face a study in
troubled concentration. "But I didn't _do_ anything!" he exploded
finally. "So I pulled an old con game. So what? Why should they get so
excited? So I clipped a few thousand credits, pulled a little fast
business." He shrugged eloquently, spreading his hands. "Everybody's
doing it. They do it to each other without batting an eye. You should
_see_ these critters operate on each other. Why, my little scheme was
peanuts by comparison."

Meyerhoff pulled a pipe from his pocket, and began stuffing the bowl
with infinite patience. "And precisely what sort of con game was it?" he
asked quietly.

Zeckler shrugged again. "The simplest, tiredest, moldiest old racket
that ever made a quick nickel. Remember the old Terran gag about the
Brooklyn Bridge? The same thing. Only these critters didn't want
bridges. They wanted land--this gooey, slimy swamp they call 'farm
land.' So I gave them what they wanted. I just sold them some land."

Meyerhoff nodded fiercely. "You sure did. A hundred square kilos at a
swipe. Only you sold the same hundred square kilos to a dozen different
natives." Suddenly he threw back his hands and roared. "Of all the
things you _shouldn't_ have done--"

"But what's a chunk of land?"

Meyerhoff shook his head hopelessly. "If you hadn't been so greedy,
you'd have found out what a chunk of land was to these natives befo