"Shut up, Willis."

Willis said it again, "Good afternoon. Mark. Sit down, my boy. Always happy to see you."

"I've heard that voice," said Frank, puzzlement in his tones.

"Thank you. General. How do you do, sir?" Willis went on, now in the precise, rather precious tones of Headmaster Howe.

"I know!" said Frank. "I've heard it on broadcast; it's Beecher, the Resident Agent General."

"Sh-" said Jim, "I want to listen." Willis continued, again in the fruity voice:

"Not bad, not too bad for an old man."

"Nonsense, General, you're not old."-Howe's voice again.

"Kind of you to say so, my boy," Willis went on. "What have you in the bag? Contraband?"

Willis repeated Howe's sycophantic laugh. "Hardly. Just a scientific specimen-a rather interesting curiosity I confiscated from one of the students."

There was a short pause, then the fruity voice said, "Bless my boots! Mark, wherever did you find this creature?"

"I just told you, sir," came Howe's voice. "I was forced to take it away from one of the students."

"Yes, yes-but do you have any idea of what you've got?"

"Certainly, sir; I looked it up. Areocephalopsittacus Bron-"

"Spare me the learned words, Mark. It's a roundhead, a Martian roundhead. That's not the point. You say you got this from a student; do you think you could buy it from him?" the fruity voice continued eagerly.

Howe's voice answered slowly, "I hardly think so, sir. I am fairly sure he wouldn't want to sell." He hesitated, then went on, "Is it important?"

"Important? That depends on what you mean by 'important'," answered the voice of the Resident Agent General. "Would you say that sixty thousand credits was important? Or even seventy thousand? For that is what I am sure the London zoo will pay for him, over and above the cost of getting him there."

"Really?"

"Really. I have a standing order from a broker in London at fifty thousand credits; I've never been able to get him one. I'm sure the price can be boosted."

"Indeed?" Howe agreed cautiously. "That would be a fine thing for the Company, wouldn't it?"

There was a brief silence, then a hearty laugh. "Mark, my boy, you slay me. Now see here-you are hired to run the school, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"And I'm hired to look out for the interests of the Company, right? We put in a good day's work and earn our pay; that leaves eighteen hours a day that belong to each of us, personally. Are you hired to find strange specimens?"

"No."

"Neither am I. Do you understand me?"

"I think I do."

"I'm sure you do. After all, I know your uncle quite well; I'm sure he wouldn't have sent his nephew out here without explaining the facts of life to him. He understands them very well himself, I can assure you. The fact is, my boy, that there are unlimited opportunities in a place such as this for a smart man, if he will just keep his eyes and ears open. Not graft, you understand." Willis paused.

Jim started to say something; Frank said, "Shut up! We don't want to miss any of this."

The Resident's voice continued, "Not graft at all. Legitimate business opportunities that are the natural concomitants of our office. Now about this student: what will it take to convince him he should sell? I wouldn't offer him too much or he will become suspicious. We mustn't have that."

Howe was slow in replying. "I am almost certain he won't sell. General, but there is another way, possibly."

"Yes? I don't understand you."

The boys heard Howe explain his peculiar theory of ownership with respect to Willis. They could not see Beecher dig Howe in the ribs but they could hear his choked laughter. "Oh, that is rich! Mark, you slay me, you really do. Your talents are wasted as a schoolteacher; you should be a Resident."

"Well," Howe's voice replied, "I hardly expect to teach school all my life."

"You won't, you won't. We'll find an agency for you. After all, the school will be smaller and of less importance after the non-migration policy goes into effect."

("What's he talking about?" whispered Frank-"Quiet!" Jim answered.)

"Is there any news about that?" Howe wanted to know.

"I expect to hear from your uncle momentarily. You might stop in again this evening, my boy; I may have news."

The remainder of the conversation was of no special interest, but Willis plowed on with it nevertheless. The boys listened until Howe had made his farewell, after which Willis shut up.

Jim was frothing. "Put Willis in a zoo! Why, the very idea! I hope he does catch me leaving; I'd welcome an excuse to take a shot at him!"

"Easy, fellow! I wonder," Frank went on, "what that business was about a 'non-migration' policy?"

"I thought he said 'immigration'."

"I'm sure it was 'non-migration'. What time is it?"

"About three."

"We've got three hours, more or less. Jim, let's see what else we can coax out of Willis. I've got a hunch it may be important."

"Okay." Jim picked the fuzz ball up and said, "Willis old fellow, what else do you know? Tell Jim everything you've heard-everything."

Willis was happy to oblige. He reeled off bits of dialog for the next hour, most of it concerned with unimportant routine of the school. At last the boys were rewarded by hearing again the unctuous tones of Gaines Beecher:

"Mark, my boy-"

"Oh-come in, General. Sit down. Happy to see you."

"I just stopped by to say that I have gotten a despatch from your dear uncle. He added a postscript sending his regards to you."

"That's nice. Thank you, sir."

"Not at all. Close that door, will you?" Willis put in sound effects of a door being closed. "Now we can talk. The despatch, of course, concerned the non-migration policy."

"Yes?"

"I am happy to say that the board came around to your uncle's point of view. South Colony will stay where it is; this mext ship load and the one following it will go to North Colony, where the new immigrants will have nearly twelve months of summer in which to prepare for the northern winter. What are you chuckling about?"

"Nothing important, sir. One of the students, a great lout named Kelly, was telling me today what his father was going to do to me when he came through here at migration. I am looking forward to seeing his face when he learns that his father will not show up."

"You are not to tell him anything of the sort," the Resident's voice said sharply.

"Eh?"

"I want all this handled with the least possible friction. No one must know until the last possible moment. There are hotheads among the colonials who will oppose this policy, even though it has already been proved that, with reasonable precautions, the dangers of a Martian winter are negligible. My plan is to postpone migration two weeks on some excuse, then postpone it again. By the time I announce the change it will be too late to do anything but comply."

"Ingenious!"

"Thank you. It's really the only way to handle colonials, my boy. You haven't been here long enough to know them the way I do. They are a neurotic lot, most of them failures back on Earth, and they will drive you wild with their demands if you are not firm with them. They don't seem to understand that all that they are and all that they have they owe directly to the Company. Take this new policy: if you let the colonists have their own way, they would continue to follow the sun, like so many rich playboys-and at the Company's expense."

Willis shifted to Howe's voice. "I quite agree. If their children are any guide, they are a rebellious and unruly lot."

"Really shiftless," agreed the other voice. "You must be firm with them. I must be going. Oh, about that, uh, specimen: you have it in a safe place?"

"Yes indeed, sir. Locked in this cabinet."

"Hmm... it might be better to bring it to my quarters."