sunday afternoon the visitors, presumably softened up by what one of the chemists thought were martinis, were seated in the lecture hall listening to dr. morton's concluding remarks.

"one of the technicians is working on a gadget with a photocell that closes the shutter on the film when a rocket goes up," dr. morton was saying. "it should cut down the exposure time a great deal. right now, every night may be significant. if the plates from any one night are spoiled, we may not be able to duplicate them for a martian year. mankind is preparing the first trip to another star, and the work of mars observatory is necessary to insure the success of that trip. you gentlemen are rightly the leaders of mars, and so it is up to you to decide whether or not that success will be possible." he sat down to a smattering of applause.

the visitors, except harvey, then left.

"it didn't go over, professor," said harvey.

"i know," said dr. morton. "that washes out that plan." he turned to the gambler. "you're the only person i can trust with this," he said. "how would you like to help me make some fireworks?"