"I'm sorry; I know that's out of order. I'm upset. Just as Jenny got to her boat an hour or so ago-she stopped here for a while first-she stepped on something in the sand that cut her right foot, just behind the base of the big toe, all the way to the bone. Her father is still sewing tendons together. A couple of young people brought her home, but she's lost a lot of blood and hasn't been able to tell us much. Ben and I want to know what she stepped on. So do you. It isn't as| though this was the States, paved with broken bottles; this is a civilized community."

"Will she be all right?" asked Bob, and "Did she lose too much blood?" was Maeta's more specific inquiry.

"Yes to you, Bob, and I don't think so, Mae. You two get down there and find out what she stepped on, please."

Neither of them argued. They headed straight toward the beach, short-cutting the road but of course avoiding gardens. There were large spots of blood along the faint path which they followed; Jenny had evidently been helped home this way.

The beach was well peopled, though the sun was almost down. Most of the boats were now ashore or at anchor. No one, however, seemed aware of Jenny's accident; at least there was no crowd around her canoe, and no excited clusters of people. It was a perfectly ordinary Ell Saturday just before suppertime.

Bob and Maeta were adequately shod, so they did not hesitate to approach the kayak. The sand a yard or so from its near side was blood-caked, and this seemed a reasonable place to start looking. With a brief, "On the job, Hunter, and skip the speeches," Bob knelt beside the brown patch and began scooping sand away from it. The Hunter had to admit that his host was working with reasonable caution, considering the circumstances, so he said nothing and got on the job -ready to take care of things if Bob found the thing they wanted the hard way.

After a minute or two, with the immediate site of the stain excavated to a depth of six or eight inches Maeta began to dig as well. After disposing of Bob's objections, which sounded very much like those the Hunter used on Bob himself when he felt his host was being careless, she started along the side of the boat and searched for a couple of feet in either direction from the spot on the boat which had obviously been prepared to take a patch. Then she began working out toward Bob. Unfortunately they had not come very close to meeting when the sun set.

"We'll have to try again in the morning," Bob said, straightening up with an effort. "I wonder when we can get out to check the ship or whatever you found?"

"Stay here," was Maeta's injunction. "I'll go home and get a light, our place is closerthan the doctor's."

"You think it's worth the trouble? No one else is likely to get hurt before morning."

"Yes, it is," the girl said firmly. The Hunter, a little surprised at Bob's obtuseness, added, "Of course it is, Bob. Remember your bike trip-wire. We must either find what she stepped on, or make certain that it's gone." Maeta had disappeared by the time this sentence was completed, but Bob answered aloud anyway. "Oh, of course. I hadn't thought of that. I guess I was expecting to be the only victim, if there was anything to that idea. If this really wasn't an accident-I suppose that's what Jenny's mother was talking about-where do you suppose they'd hide it?"

"Close to the boat, where anyone working on the patch would be most nicely to step on it," the Hunter answered rather impatiently.

"Oh-then that's why Mae started digging where she did."

"I would assume so." The alien restrained himself with a slight effort; after all, his host was not completely as he should be and in any case had freely admitted that he was not always quick on the uptake.

They tried to continue the search while waiting for Maeta, but even with Venus helping the gibbous moon, progress was slow. Fortunately the girl was back in a few minutes with a flashlight, and to Bob's relief was willing to hold it while he did the digging. He worked very carefully, with the girl's and the Hunter's vision supplementing his own, and after another hour all three were prepared to certify that there was nothing within a fifteen-foot radius of the point under the patch site which could possibly penetrate the human skin, except for a few shells. None of these showed a trace of blood, even to the Hunter.

This was more than interesting, since skin had certainly been penetrated.

"He'd have been smarter to leave it here. It could have been an accident, then," Bob remarked.

"Like tightening up your bike again," Maeta pointed out. "Is this really someone who's not very bright, which I could believe of Andre, or is there some reason we haven't thought of for making it obvious these aren't accidents?"

Bob had not thought of that possibility, and had no answer to the suggestion. They returned thoughtfully to the Seevers' with their report.

The doctor had finished his work, and Jenny was on a couch with the damaged foot heavily bandaged and splinted to immobilize toes and ankle. During the ensuing discussion, in which the Hunter took little part, Bob and he heard for the first time of her bicycle trouble. Everyone admitted that coincidence was being stretched far beyond its yield point. Bob was the most reluctant, in spite of the evidence, to believe that there was deliberate interference with the project to save his life, but even he was halfhearted in asking Seever whether other people on the island had been showing a larger than normal incidence of burns, falls, cuts, and other accidents. The answer was a qualified negative as Seever put it; nothing of the sort had caught his attention.

"Of course, with a population this small-" Bob was starting, when Jenny made one of her few interruptions of the evening.

"Swallow that with your degree, Bob. You know as well as I do that these aren't accidents. They're just the sort of thing young Andre has been doing for years, to his family and to me and sometimes to other people. It's just that they're worse now; and you've been added to the list. I admit I don't really know he's the one, but I feel pretty sure, and tomorrow I'm going to know."

"You're not going anywhere tomorrow," her father said firmly.

"All right, then he'll come here. You tell his father he's due for a shot, or something. I've put up with a lot from that kid even if this isn't part of it, and I'm going to find out why."

"You've changed your mind about Shorty?" Bob asked.

"Not entirely, but he wouldn't do things like that to you, I don't think. You get Andre here, Dad, and then leave him with me. We've been through this before, and I thought we'd settled it a year ago. I suppose Bob and Mae will be out beyond the reef tomorrow, and you certainly won't let me go, but I'm going to get something done."

"Even if it has no connection with the main job," Bob remarked.

"Even then, if it really hasn't. What else could have gotten him interested in you?"

"I still don't see why you're so sure he's the one," Maeta said.

"I expect an art student would call it recognition of style," the redhead answered. "Never mind. You just get that ship checked out, and let me know the answer as soon as you can."

"How sure of that are you?" asked Bob.

"Not sure enough. Well report to each other. Dad, I'm sleepy and this foot hurts. Anything you can do?"

Bob and Maeta took the hint. At the road outside they paused for a moment, their homes lying in opposite directions.

"D'you think Jenny could be right about the desChenes kid?" Bob asked "How well do you know him?"

"Pretty well. After all, you're almost the only one on the island these days who doesn't know practically everybody. He certainly is a pest; Jenny and Shorty are both right about that. He does seem to get fun out of being a nuisance, and even out of hurting people. I've never had much trouble from him myself, unless it was he who hid my paddles a couple of times. He damaged some library books about three years ago, soon after I started working there, and I took away his card for a couple of months. The first paddle incident came right after that. I found them easily enough both times, and never bothered to find out who did it."