Finally, Jack put it away in the top drawer of the desk. He was thinking
about what to get for lunch when Little Fuzzy burst into the living room,
clutching his new weapon and yeeking excitedly.

"What's the matter, kid? You got troubles?" He rose and went to the
gunrack, picking down a rifle and checking the chamber. "Show Pappy Jack
what it is."

Little Fuzzy followed him to the big door for human-type people, ready to
bolt back inside if necessary.

The trouble was a harpy--a thing about the size and general design of a
Terran Jurassic pterodactyl, big enough to take a Little Fuzzy at one
mouthful. It must have made one swoop at him already, and was circling
back for another. It ran into a 6-mm rifle bullet, went into a backward
loop and dropped like a stone.

Little Fuzzy made a very surprised remark, looked at the dead harpy for a
moment and then spotted the ejected empty cartridge. He grabbed it and
held it up, asking if he could have it. When told that he could, he ran
back to the bedroom with it. When he returned, Pappy Jack picked him up
and carried him to the hangar and up into the control cabin of the
manipulator.

The throbbing of the contragravity-field generator and the sense of rising
worried him at first, but after they had picked up the harpy with the
grapples and risen to five hundred feet he began to enjoy the ride. They
dropped the harpy a couple of miles up what the latest maps were
designating as Holloway's Run, and then made a wide circle back over the
mountains. Little Fuzzy thought it was fun.