g I remember is my pal here," he gestured toward
Thulon, "and a lot of his buddies chirping like sparrows while they
worked over me. And believe me, they were working me over plenty. I felt
like I had been turned inside out, wrung out, hung out to dry, then
stuffed all over again."

"But when you came back to the ship," Hargraves spoke, "you said you
remembered everything that had happened, the crash of the ship, our
hiding her. If you were dead, how did you learn these things?"

"He told me," Sarkoff answered, nodding toward Thulon. "He filled out my
memory for me with dope he had taken from your mind while you were
talking. Reading minds is one of that old boy's minor accomplishments."

"Then why didn't you tell us the truth?" Hargraves exploded. "You said
you had been sent out scouting. Why didn't you tell us what had really
happened?" Mentally he added, "If it happened!"

"Because you apes wouldn't have believed me!" Sarkoff answered. "To your
knowledge--mine, too, until it happened--dead men don't get up out of
their graves and walk. If I had told you the truth, you wouldn't have
believed a word of it. If I told you something you knew wasn't true,
that you had sent me out on a scouting trip, you would know I was lying,
you would figure it was a trick of some kind, and you would wait around
and try to discover the trick. While you were waiting around trying to
catch me, I could get in some missionary work on Ron Val. I knew I could
convert him, if I had a chance to talk to him. With him on my side, we
could convince the rest of you. It would have worked too. All it needed
was a little time for you boys to get used to the idea of a dead man
coming back to life." He looked at Nielson. "Remind me to black that
other eye of yours one of these days."

"What?" said Hargraves. "What's this?"

"Our pal Nielson," Sarkoff said. "If _you_ think before you act, _he_
acts before he thinks. You had no sooner gone chasing off to see if I
was really where you had buried me, which was what I thought you would
do, until Nielson comes poking into where Ron Val and I were holding a
conference. Nielson had a gun. He had it out ready to use. He figured
the only safe thing to do was to shoot me. So," Sarkoff shrugged, "I had
to smack him. He had forced my hand."

[Illustration: Fists lashed out, weapons appeared, and cries of fury
rent the air]

There was a slight stir among the group. This was news to all of them.

"Is this tru