The restaurateur put his knife away and said, ‘Tony Angelo is a good businessman. Why don’t I buy secondhand bikes from hiin — 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
See the Ancient Martian Ruins!!!
Pollux looked at it. ‘He’s a fast operator, all right. Maybe you should have insisted on a partnership.’
‘Don’t be greedy. We turned a profit, didn’t we?’
‘I told you we would. Well, let’s get Fuzzy Britches home to Buster.’
XIII — CAVEAT VENDOR
Fuzzy Britches was not an immediate success with Lowell. ‘Where its legs?’ he said darkly. ‘If it’s a Martian, it ought to have three legs.’
‘Well,’ argued Castor, ‘some Martians don’t have legs.’
‘Prove it!’
‘This one doesn’t. That proves it’
Meade picked Fuzzy Britches up; it immediately began to buzz — whereupon Lowell demanded to hold it. Meade passed it over. ‘I don’t see,’ she remarked, ‘why anything as helpless as that would have such bright colors.’
‘Think again, honey lamb,’ advised Hazel. ‘Put that thing out on the desert sand and you would lose it at ten feet, which might be a good idea.’
‘No!’ answered Lowell.
‘ “No” what, dear?’
‘Don’t you lose Fuzzy Britches. He’s mine.’ The child left carrying the flat cat and cooing a lullaby to it. Fuzzy Britches might lack legs but it knew how to win friends; anyone who picked it up hated to put it down. There was something intensely satisfying about petting the furry thing. Hazel tried to analyse it but could not.
No one knew when the quarantine of the War God would be lifted. Therefore Meade was much surprised one morning to return to Casa Mañana and find her father in the general room. ‘Daddy!’ she yelled, swarming over him. ‘When did you get down?’