ago--"
"Call _me_ yella?" Nelly hollered. "Why, you lousy damn yokel, if youdidn't have that blaster--"
Endlich said grimly, "But I got it, friend!" He sent a stream of energyfrom the blaster right past Neely's head, so close that a shock of theother's hair smoked and curled into black wisps. "And watch yourlanguage--my wife and kids can hear you--"
Neely's thick shoulders hunched. He ducked nervously, rubbing hishead--and for the first time there was a hint of genuine alarm in hisvoice. "All right," he growled, "all right! Take it easy--"
Something deep within John Endlich relaxed--a cold tight knot seemed tounwind--for, at that moment, he knew that Neely was beginning to lose.The big man's evident discomfort and fear were the marks of weakness--tohis followers at least; and with them, he could never be a leader,again. Moreover, he had allowed himself to be maneuvered into theposition of being the butt of a practical joke, that, by his own code,must be followed up, to its nasty, if interesting, outcome. Thespectators began to resemble Romans at the circus, with Neely thevictim. And the victim's downfall was tragically swift.
"Come on, Neely! You heard what Pun'kins said," somebody yelled."Jeez--a whole bushel. Let's see how many you can eat, Neely.... Damnedif this ain't gonna be rich! Don't let us down, Neely! Nobody's hurtin'yuh. All you have to do is eat--all them nice tamadas.... Hey, Neely--ifthat bushel ain't enough for you, I'll personally buy you another, atthe reg'lar price. Haw-haw-haw.... Lucky Neely! Look at him! Having aswell banquet. Better than if he was home.... Haw-haw-haw.... Come on,Pun'kins--make him eat!..."
Yeah, under certain conditions human nature can be pretty fickle.Wonderingly, John Endlich felt himself to be respected--the Top Man. Theguy who had shown courage and ingenuity, and was winning, by the harshcode of men who had been roughened and soured by space--by life amongthe asteroids.
* * * * *
For a little while then, he had to be hard. He thrust another tomatotoward Neely, at the same time directing a thin stream from theblaster just past the big nose. Neely ate six more tomatoes with a will,his eyes popping, sweat streaming down his forehead.
Endlich's next blaster-stream barely missed Neely's booted toe. Thepersuasive shot was worth fifty-five more dollars in garden fruitconsumed. The crowd gave with mock cheers and bravos, and demanded moreaction.
"That makes thirty-two.... Come on, Neely--that's just a good start. Yougot a long, long ways to go.... Come on, Pun'kins--bet you can stufffifty into him...."
To goad Neely on in this ludicrous and savage game, Endlich next justscorched the metal at Neely's shoulder. It isn't to be said that Endlichdidn't enjoy his revenge--for all the anguish and real danger that Neelyhad caused him. But as this fierce yet childish sport went on, and thegoing turned really rough for the big asteroid miner, Endlich's angerbegan to be mixed with self-disgust. He'd always be a hot-tempered guy;he couldn't help that. But now, satisfaction, and a hopeful glimpse ofpeace ahead, burned the fury out of him and touched him with shame.Still, for a little more, he had to go on. Again and again, as before,he used that blaster. But, as he did so, he talked, ramblingly, knowingthat the audience, too, would hear what he said. Maybe, in a way, it wasa lecture; but he couldn't help that:
"Have another tomato, Neely. Sorry to do things like this--but it's yourown way. So why should you complain? Funny, ain't it? A man can get eventoo many tomatoes. Civilized tomatoes. Part of something most guysaround here have been homesick for, for a long time.... Maybe that'swhat has been most of the trouble out here in the asteroids. Not enoughcivilization. On Earth we were used to certain standards--in spite ofbeing rough enough there, too. Here, the traces got kicked over. But onthis side of Vesta, an idea begins to soak in: This used to be nicecountry--blue sky, trees growing. Some of that is coming back, Neely.And order with it. Because, deep in our guts, that's what we all want.And fresh vegetables'll help.... Have another tomato, Neely. Or shouldwe call it enough, guys?"
_Endlich's voice was steely ... "Sorry to do things likethis--but it's your way!"_]
"Neely, you ain't gonna quit now?" somebody guffawed. "You're doin'almost good. Haw-haw!"
Neely's face was purple. His eyes were bloodshot. His mouth hung partlyopen. "Gawd--no--please!" he croaked.
An embarrassed hush fell over the crowd. Back home on Earth, they hadall been more-or-less average men. Finally someone said, expressing theintrusion among them of the better dignity of man:
"Aw--let the poor dope go...."
Then and there, John Endlich sold what was left of his first bushel oftomatoes. One of his customers--the once loud-mouthed Schmidt--evensaid, rather stiffly, "Pun'kins--you're all right."
And these guys were the real roughnecks of the mining camp.
Is it necessary to mention that, as they were leaving, Neely lost hispride completely, soiling the inside of his helmet's face-window so thathe could scarcely see out of it? That, amid the raucous laughter of hiscompanions, which still sounded slightly self-conscious and pitying.Thus Alf Neely sank at last to the level of helpless oblivion andnonentity.
* * * * *
A week of Vestal days later, in the afternoon, Rose and the kids came toJohn Endlich, who was toiling over his cucumbers.
"Their name is Harper, Pop!" Bubs shouted.
"And they've got three children!" Evelyn added.
John Endlich, straightened, shaking a kink out of his tired back. "Who?"he questioned.
"The people who are going to be our new neighbors, Johnny," Rose saidhappily. "We just picked up the news on the radio--from their ship,which is approaching from space right now! I hope they're nice folks.And, Johnny--there used to be country schools with no more than fivepupils...."
"Sure," John Endlich said.
Something felt warm around his heart. Leave it to a woman to think of aschool--the symbol of civilization, marching now across the void. JohnEndlich thought of the trouble at the mining camp, which his first loadof fresh vegetables, picked up by a small space boat, had perhaps helpedto end. He thought of the relics in this strange land. Things that werelike legends of a lost pastoral beauty. Things that could come back. Thesecond family of homesteaders was almost here. Endlich was reconciled todomesticity. He felt at home; he felt proud.
Bees buzzed near him. A tay-tay bug from a perished era, hummed andscraped out a mournful sound.
"I wonder if the Harper kids'll call you Mr. Pun'kins, Pop," Bubsremarked. "Like the miners still do."
John Endlich laughed. But somehow he was prouder than ever. Maybe thename would be a legend, too.
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