He tried to include all the information which might be necessary to convince the readers of his identity- clearly they weren't at all sure that his quarry wasn't around, too-and to let them find and identify at least one of the human members of the group. He also outlined his difficulty with his host's chemical machinery, making no effort to belittle his own mistakes in the matter. He had planned the wording carefully, and, in spite of the unexpected difficulty, was back with his host in little over three hours.

Bob was able to rise without too much discomfort the next morning. The wind had been high the day before, causing everyone some uneasiness, and he insisted on accompanying Maeta to North Beach. They were alone; it was understood that if it was practical to go out, Maeta would bicycle back to get Bob's mother and Mrs. Seever.

The sun was well up when they reached North Beach, for Bob had slept fairly late. As they approached the outrigger, a small figure which had been seated beside it rose and faced them.

Once again the Hunter was impressed by Andre's plumpness, a rare condition among the Ell children. The generally accepted way of life among them involved intense activity, and Daphne, he remembered, liked to show off her very visible ribs. All three in the group were even more impressed by the thought of what might have happened to the outrigger be fore their arrival. However, Maeta greeted the child with her usual calm friendliness. She might have been about to ask, tactfully, what he was doing there, but he didn't give her the time.

"Can I go out with you?" the boy asked. "Why?" returned Bob.

"I want to see what you're doing. You have the Tavake's metal-finder. I always wanted to try it and they'd never let me, and I've been wondering what metal you could be looking for outside the reef. No one ever drops tools there, and it wouldn't be worth looking for them if they did. Are you treasure hunting?"

"No." Bob's tone was less cordial than was strictly tactful. "Why do you care what grown-ups are doing? Why don't you go with the other kids?"

"Them?" the youngster shrugged his shoulders.

"They're no fun. I'd rather see what you're doing."

"We're not tripping bikes, or playing with their brakes or handlebars, or hiding glass in the sand," was Bob's even less tactful answer. Andre's face became more unexpressive than usual. Then he realized that this was hardly natural, and he put on the appearance of surprise. Then he realized that this had come too late, and gave another shrug.

"All right, forget it. I didn't think you'd want me. The kids you think I should be playing with don't either. I'll think of something else." He turned away.

Neither the Hunter nor his host could quite decide how to respond to this bitter and pitiful remark, but Maeta did not hesitate.

"Andre, you're not making sense. If you really played the tricks Bob mentioned, wouldn't you expect people to be too afraid of you to want you around? And you did play them, didn't you?" The boy eyed her silently for fully a minute.

"Sure I did," he said at last, defiantly. "You know it. Jenny caught me out when she was talking to me the other day, and she told you."

"How do you know she told us?"

"I heard her. I listened outside the window after she went back to the other room with the rest of you.

Bob tried to conceal how this confession affected him. "What did you hear?" he asked.

"Lots."

Bob had never taken lessons from his guest detective, but even he knew better than to be specific.

"Have you listened before?"

"Sure. Lots."

"When have you listened to us?"

"In the hospital, mostly. Down by the creek, the day you and Jenny had been out on Apu, and she and your sister went to the library for the thing you were looking for. On the dock, the night, you came back from the States."

"Did you try to break into my footlocker?"

"No. I was trying something else, that time. Your father said a lot, when he got hurt picking it up."

Maeta interjected. "Andy, do you snoop like this around everyone, or is there something about Bob and Jenny and me that interests you?"

"I listen whenever I can. If it's no fun, I stop. You've been a lot of fun."

"I can see where we might be," Bob said wryly.

"What's been so especially fun about us for you?"

"The green things." The child's face was still in scrutable. "The green things that keep you from get ting hurt. One of them kept your father from being burned up when I was little." That, the Hunter thought, was an interesting interpretation of the event; he wondered whether it had been edited. For the first time, he began to think there might be something to Seever's suspicion about his old quarry. Andre went on. "I wanted to get one for my father, because Mother had died. Then when the other kids used to hurt me, I wanted one for me."

"You thought, way back then, that there were green things that kept people from being hurt?" Bob was trying to be sure.

"Of course. I saw you with it at that fire. I wondered how you got one, and kept trying to find out who had them. I was new sure until the other day when I saw one come part way out of your hand while you were asleep up at the other end of the island. I walked with you for a way after that, and wanted to ask, but I thought you wouldn't want to tell me. I just couldn't really believe it, and I had to make sure. You didn't get hurt, they told me, when you fell off your bike by the library. I hadn't stayed, because I didn't think it would work anyway-it was just an experiment. I made real sure in your driveway."

"You certainly did," Bob admitted. He found himself at a loss for other words. Maeta, as usual, did not.

"Andy," she asked, "did you think what would have happened if you'd been wrong about Bob and his-green thing?"

"So I'd have been wrong. But I wasn't!" For the first time there was an expression on the round face -one of triumph. Bob and Maeta looked at each other; then the girl turned back to the child.

"How about Jenny's foot?" she asked. "Did you think she had one of them, too?"

"She might have. She had been with Bob, and they were friends. He'd give one to a friend."

"And now you know she doesn't. Are you sorry?"

"She'll be all right." A thought crossed Bob's mind and he spoke up hastily.

"Before you try any more experiments, Andy, Maeta doesn't have one. Neither does anyone else."

Maeta turned to the canoe. "You'd better come along with us, Andre. You're only partly right about all this, and we'll have to explain some things to you before something really bad happens."

"Will you help me find one of them?"

"We're looking for them, but we can't give one to you. They're people, and if you want one to live with you you'll have to get him to like you. Come on. Bob's arm is still bad from what you did, because his friend can't fix broken bones any faster than they usually heal. We were going to get someone else to help paddle, but you'll do."

"I don't really want to go out with you, I know I asked, but Ididn't think you'd let me. The wind's too high, and I'm afraid."

"We're taking an important message-really, really important-to thegreen people. We may never find them if we don't get it there, where we think they'll be."

"Are they in the ocean?"

"Some of the time. Come along." The boy was still plainly reluctant, but Maeta had already displayed her force of personality, and the Hunter was not surprised when the youngster helped slide the outrigger into the water. Neither was Bob. Both of them, however, were uneasy about the girl's evident determination to go out with only two paddlers, one of them certainly not very strong and probably unskilled.

Since there was no way to ask her with the boy there-neither Bob nor the Hunter wanted to spoil any plan she might be considering-they could not know that Maeta had planned herself into a corner. She did want to get the bottle out to the spaceship; she regarded the message as vital to Bob's life. In addition, she, too, had suspected that Andre might have done something to her canoe, and wanted the assurance of seeing him afloat in it. Nothing less would convince her, for the moment, that he had played no tricks with the outrigger; and until they were actually afloat she was expecting him to come up with some last-minute excuse for staying behind.