could tell he decided
to play it out to where Doc would have to draw in his horns. He actually
grinned, for the effect it would have on everybody watching. "All right,
Yoris," he said. He backed against the wall and folded his arms. "But
hadn't you better stand up here with me?"

"I ain't going," said Doc. "I don't like Mars. But you won't have no
trouble getting your gold. There's nuggets the size of your fist laying
all over the dry river beds."

"I hate to be nosey," said Burt, playing to the crowd, "but how are you
going to get me there?"

"With his head, o'course!" blurted Rusty before I could stop him. "Just
like he cures you when you're sick!" Doc had pulled Rusty through two or
three bad kid sicknesses--and a lot of the rest of us, too.

"Yep," said Doc. "A man don't need one of them rocket things to get
between here and Mars. Fact is, I never seen one."

Burt looked at the ceiling like he was a martyr, then back at Doc.
"Well, Yoris," he said in a tone that meant he was just about through
humoring him, "I'm waiting. Can you send me there or can't you?" The
start of a nasty smile was beginning to show at the corners of his
mouth.

"Sure," said Doc. He slumped down in his chair and cupped his hands
lightly around his dark glasses. I noticed his fingers trembling a
little against his forehead.

The lights dimmed, flickered and went out, and we waited for the
bartender to put in a new fuse. The power around here doesn't go haywire
except in the winter, when trees fall across the lines. A small fight
started over in a corner.

When the lights came back on, Doc and Pop started for the door, and Lew
and Rusty and I followed. Burt's buddies were looking kind of puzzled,
and a few old-timers were moving over to watch the fight. The rest were
heading back to the bar.

Rusty piled into the jeep with Doc and me. "When you going to bring him
back, Doc?" he asked when we started moving.

"Dunno," said Doc. He took off his glasses to watch me shift gears. He's
been after me for a long time to teach him how to drive. "It only works
on a man once."

THE END

Transcriber's Note:

This etext was produced from _If Worlds of Science Fiction_ November
1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
typographical errors have been corrected without note.

End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Trees Are W