Hello!" said Mitchell suddenly. "Here's your friend with a cop."
"Now we can straighten, things out," breathed Congreve and Burleigh. almost in unison, stopping then to stare at each other.
The constable's voice broke in on them. "Mr. Staunton here informs me that you have been trespassing on his property, destroying his flowers, and making a general nuisance of yourself. In addition to that, he charges that you are foreigners and cannot show passports or legal flying permits. What have you to say? I warn you that, anything stated here may be used against you later."
The spacemen stared at the uniformed man in growing bewilderment. A horrible suspicion began to slither in their minds that something was quite wrong. For the uniform the man wore was not that of the New York State or City Police, or like that of any police with whom they had ever had contact. Blue it was; that much was true. But the cut was all wrong; and the design on the buttons, shield, and cap decorations was such that it caught them unaware.
For the shield was surmounted by a crown and the brass buttons each bore the same symbol. And the heraldic emblems were entirely alien to the two Americans.
Congreve choked a second. Finally he ventured: "Would you please tell us exactly where we are? In what section of the country?"
The officer, a burly ruddy-faced man, hesitated an instant, then replied. "You are on Long Island, near New York City, in the state of New York."
The two astral navigators looked at each other in astonishment They had begun to think that perhaps they might have landed in Newfoundland or Canada, but this confirmed previous observations. Yet, here was a mystery which defied solution.
Congreve spoke up slowly, "I'm afraid there's some great mistake here. If you have a car, I think it would be better if we went with you to the city to clear this matter up." It had occurred to him that, perhaps, if he could get away from this crazy mansion (no doubt, the two men were regarded as merely eccentric, in view of their wealth) he might find sane people who could explain this matter. In any case, he could obtain a lawyer.
The policeman looked relieved, signified his assent. He bad expected trouble.
Mitchell and Congreve swung the door of their great space-rocket shut and locked it. Then they crossed the lawns of the estate and entered the officer's blue-green radio car. They seated themselves in the back seat, the officer with them, and a second officer, who had remained in the car, drove off.
The little astronaut thought he knew cars, but he couldn't place this one. "What make of car is this?" he inquired. "I thought you police always used Fords."
The officer grunted. "It's a Royal Six. Never heard of Fords; must be one of your foreign makes."
Mitchell gulped and looked out of the window wondering what was wrong with the world. The view outside seemed all right. Beautiful Long Island scenery, fine homes, blue sky. green grass—he couldn't be entirely mad.
They drove on in silence to a police-station in some small town. There their man got out and went inside; after a little while he returned, got in
