[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction November 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The bullet slapped rotted leaves and dirt into Gram Treb's eyes. He wormed backward to the bole of a small tree. "Missed!" he shouted. He used English, the second tongue of them both. "Throw away your carbine and use rocks." "You tasted it anyhow," Harl Neilson's shrill young voice cried. "How was the