Dane was reaching for the pay to give the
captors when, to his real astonishment, one of them advanced and pointed
with an extended forefinger claw to the open port.
"Go in," he formed the Trade Lingo words with care. And Dane's surprise
must have been plain to read for the cub followed his speech with a
vigorous nod and set one foot on the ramp to underline his desire.
For one of the Salariki, who had continually manifested their belief that
Terrans and their ship were an offence to the nostrils of all right
living "men," to wish to enter the spacer was an astonishing about-face.
But any advantage no matter how small, which might bring about a closer
understanding, must be seized at once.
Dane accepted the growling Sinbad and beckoned, knowing better than to
touch the boy. "Come--"
Only one of the junior clansmen obeyed that invitation. The other
watched, big-eyed, and then scuttled back to the forest when his fellow
called out some suggestion. _He_ was not going to be trapped.
Dane led the way up the ramp, paying no visible attention to the young
Salarik, nor did he urge the other on when he lingered for a long moment
or two at the port.
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