"It seems," Maxwell told them, "that I'm a split personality. One of me, I understand, got in an accident and died."

"But that's impossible," said Carol. "Split personality in the mental sense-sure, that can be understood. But physically..."

"There's nothing in heaven or earth," said Ghost, "that is impossible."

"That's a bad quotation," said Oop, "and, besides, you misquoted it."

He put a hand to his hairy chest and scratched vigorously with blunt fingers.

"You needn't look so horrified," he said to Carol. "I itch. I'm a brute creature of nature, therefore I scratch. And I'm not naked, either. I have a pair of shorts on."

"He's housebroken," said Maxwell, "but just barely."

"To get back to this split personality," said the girl, "can you tell us what actually did happen?"

"I set out for one of the Coonskin planets," said Maxwell, "and along the way somehow my wave pattern duplicated itself and I wound up in two places."

"You mean there were two Pete Maxwells?"

"That's the way of it."

"If I were you," said Oop, "I'd sue them. These Transportation people get away with murder. You could shake them down for plenty. Me and Ghost could testify for you. We went to your funeral.

"As a matter of fact," he said, "I think Ghost and I should sue as well. For mental anguish. Our best friend cold and rigid in his casket and us prostrate with grief."

"We really were, you know," said Ghost.

"I have no doubt of it," said Maxwell.

"I must say," said Carol, "that all three of you take it rather lightly. Here one good friend of three-"

"What do you want of us?" demanded Oop. "Sing hallelujahs, perhaps? Or bug out our eyes and be filled with the wonder of it? We lost a pal and now he's back again and-"