"No. Why?"

"People bet on 'em here - same as race horses Earthside."

"I don't like bets. You can lose."

"Sometimes. But suppose we entered Buster?"

"Huh? Are you crazy? Enter him against the best players on Mars?"

"Why not? Hazel used to be Luna champion, but Buster beats her regularly."

"But you know why. He reads her mind."

"That's precisely what I am talking about"

Castor shook his head. "It wouldn't be honest, Junior."

"Since when did they pass a law against telepathy?"

"Anyhow you don't know for certain that he does read her mind. And you don't know that he could read a stranger's mind. And it would take plenty cash to set up a good bet - which we haven't got. And besides, we might lose.

"Okay, okay, it was just a thought You produce one."

Castor frowned. "I don't have one. Let's go back over and see if our bikes are in. If they are, let's treat ourselves to a day off and go sightseeing. We might as well get some use out of those bikes; they cost us enough." He stood up.

Pollux sat still and stared at his glass. Castor added, "Come on."

Pollux said, "Sit down, Grandpa. I think I'm getting an idea."

"Don't frighten it"

"Quiet." Presently Pollux said, "Grandpa, you and I have just arrived here. We want to go sightseeing - so we immediately think of our bikes. Why wouldn't tourists like to do the same thing - and pay for it?"

"Huh?" Castor thought about it 'There must be some catch in it - or somebody would have done it long before this."

"Not necessarily. it has only been the past few years that you could get a tourist visa to Mars; you came as a colonist or you didn't come at all. I'd guess that nobody has thought of shipping bikes to Mars for tourists. Bikes cost plenty and they have been imported just for prospectors - for work, because a sand rat could cover four or five times as much terri­tory on a sand cycle as on foot I'll bet nobody here has ever thought of them for pleasure."

"What do you want us to do? Paint a sign and then stand under it, shouting, "Bicycles! Get your bicycle here! You can't see the sights of Mars without a bicycle"."

Pollux thought it over. "We could do worse. But we would do better to try to sell somebody else on it, somebody who has the means to get it going. Shucks, we couldn't even rent a lot for our bike stand."

"There's the soft point in the whole deal. We tell somebody and what does he do? He doesn't buy our bikes; he goes to Tony Angelo and makes a deal with him to put Angelo's bikes to work, at a lower cost."

"Use your head, Grandpa. Angelo and the other dealers won't rent their new machines to tourists; they cost too much. And tourists won't rent that junk Angelo has in his back lot, they're in a holiday mood; they'll go for something new and shiny and cheerful. And for rental purposes. Remember, our bikes aren't just practically new; they are new. Anybody who rents anything knows it has been used before; he's satisfied if it looks new.

Castor stood up again. "Okay, you've sold me. Now let's see if you can sell it to somebody else. Pick a victim."

"Sit down; what's your hurry? Our benefactor is probably right under this roof."

"Huh?"

"What's the first thing a tourist sees when he first comes out of the Hall of Welcome? The Old Southern Dining Room, that's what. The bike stand ought to be right out in front of this restaurant"

"Let's find the owner."

Joe Pappalopoulis was in the kitchen; he came out wiping his hands on his apron. "What's the matter, boys? You don't like your soda?

"Oh, the sodas were swell! Look, Mr. Pappalopoulis, can you spare us a few minutes?"

"Call me "Poppa"; you wear yourself out. Sure."

"Thanks. I'm Cas Stone; this is my brother Pol. We live on Luna and we came in with a load you might be interested in."

"You got a load of imported food? I don't use much. Just coffee and some flavors."

"No, no, not food. How would you like to add a new line that would fit right in with your restaurant business? Twice as much volume and only one overhead."

The owner took out a knife and began to pare his nails. "Keep talking."

Pollux took over, explained his scheme with infectious enthusiasm. Pappalopoulis looked up from time to time, said nothing. When Pollux seemed to be slowing down Castor took over; 'Besides renting them by the hour, day, or week, you set up sightseeing tours and charge extra for those."

"The guides don't cost you any salary; you make 'em pay for the concession and then allow them a percentage of the guide fee."

"They rent their own bikes from you, too."

"No overhead; you've already got the best spot in town. You just arrange to be out in front every time a shuttle comes down and maybe pay one of your guides a commission on rentals he makes to watch the stand in between times."

"But the best deal is the long-term lease. A tourist uses a bike one day; you point out to him how cheap he can get it for the full time of his stay and you get the full price of the bike back in one season. From then on you're operating on other people's money.

The restaurateur put his knife away and said, "Tony Angelo is a good businessman. Why don't I buy second hand bikes from him- cheap?

Castor took the plunge. "Go look at his bikes. Just look at them, sand pits and worn-out tires and all. Then we'll meet his price - with better bikes."

"Any price he names?"

"Any firm price, not a phony. If his price is really low, we'll buy his bikes ourselves." Pollux looked a warning but Castor ignored it 'We can undersell any legitimate price he can afford to make - with better merchandise. Let's go see his bikes."

Pappalopoulis stood up. "I've seen bikes in from the desert We go see yours."

"They may not be down yet." But they were down. Joe Poppa looked them over without expression, but the twins were very glad of the hours they had spent making them brave with paint, gaudy with stripes, polish and new decals.

Castor picked out three he knew to be in tiptop shape and said, "How about a ride? I'd like to do some sightseeing my­self - free.

Pappalopoulis smiled for the first time. "Why not?"

They rode north along the canal clear to the power pile station, then back to the city, skirted it, and right down Clarke Boulevard to the Hall of Welcome and the Old Southern Dining Room. After they had dismounted and returned the vehicles to the pile. Castor signaled Pollux and waited silently.

The cafe owner said nothing for several moments. At last he said, "Nice ride, boys. Thanks."

"Don't mention it"

He stared at the heap of bikes. "How much?"

Castor named a price. Pappalopoulis shook his head sadly, "That's a lot of money."

Before Pollux could name a lower price Castor said, "Make it easy on yourself. We'd rather be cut in on the gravy but we thought you might prefer to own them yourselves. So let's make it a partnership; you run the business, we put up the bikes. Even split on the gross and you absorb the overhead. Fair enough?"

Pappalopoulis reached over and stroked the flat cat 'Part­nerships make quarrels," he said thoughtfully.

"Have it your own way," Castor answered. "Five per cent for cash.

Pappalopoulis pulled out a roll that would have choked a medium-large Venerian sand hog. "I buy 'em."

The twins spent the afternoon exploring the city on foot and looking for presents for the rest of the family. When they started home their way led them back through the square between the receiving station and Poppa's restaurant The sign now read:

THE OLD SOUTHERN DINING ROOM

AND

TOURIST BUREAU

Sodas Souvenirs Candy

Sightseeing Trips

BICYCLES RENTED

Guide Service