John Lockheed sensed what was happening. "Many thanks, Booce, and we'd best be going."

Raym showed his astonishment. "We just got here!"

"Raym, now. Come on, Nurse. Booce, we're sorry about your trouble, but it didn't ruin a good evening. It's good to see you-back safe. Carlot-" He stretched his toes to clasp hers. Then the whole covey of dumpers moved out into the rain, shooing Raym and Nurse ahead of them.

"Now why did they do that?" Clave asked.

"They know we have to talk about money. You don't do that in front of strangers," Booce said. "All right, Carlot."

"Zakry won't give me credit. We'll have to forage the trunk for food. I went to Dave Kon. He still owes for a klomter of wood from our last trip. He wouldn't pay me. He offered full payment if we'd sell him a klomter off the new log at two times ten-square. I turned him down."

"Right. That mutineer thinks we can't afford to hire a judgment! See, Clave, the Admiralty won't convene a civil court unless both sides can prove that they can pay court costs. Loser pays. But the Navy knows we have

the Wart! One way or another, we'll get money or credit. Carlot, I think I know what Hilar has in mind. Burl."

Carlot thought it over. The tree dwellers watched with no sign of comprehension. She said, "Risky. Nobody knows how."

"Hilar can afford to take the chance. He brought his tree in with the tuft still on. He asked for a loan and offered decent terms. Usually the tree dies, but sometimes-"

Debby suddenly said, "I remember. The idea is to let a tree grow without tide. The wood's supposed to twist into knots?"

"Right. But trees aren't really built for that. I wonder if Hilar knows something? If he can get money to live on, he can grow his burl while we sell our wood. He'd like to get the money from us, if we had it."

"We should be asking Jeffer about this."

Booce grimaced. Then: "Sorry. Debby, you're tree dwellers, you should know a lot about them, but you've never seen a tree growing outside of tide."

"You wouldn't grow burl yourself, stet? Belmy's not a fool or he wouldn't be richer than you, stet?" Booce bridled, but Debby went on. "He knows something you don't, something about burl. Jeffer the Scientist knows a lot we don't. Let's ask."

"Burl," Jeffer said musingly, watching the faces in the bow window. Debby was hiding anxiety. Booce had asked his question with some belligerence. This had been her idea, not his. Are you any good at all? Prove yourself, Scientist!

Blue lines of print scrolled across the faces.