Then Alice caught sight of the gold nuggets and other gold and platinum objects that had accumulated in our house over the course of the day, which I had spread out on the dinner table.

“Oh my!” She said. “The museum is making out like space pirates.”

“Listen to me, my fine young criminal.” I said to her. “I would, under no circumstances, be taking you along on this expedition were it not for your friends.”

“And why, because of my friends?”

“Because they would hardly have run all over Moscow searching for gold objects for a really bad person.”

“But I’m not such a bad person.” Alice said without the slightest hint of modesty.

I frowned, but at that moment there was a ka-chunk in the wall slot indicating the arrival of a package via the pneumatic tube postal system. I opened the wall slot and pulled out the package with gold in it from the Mineralogical Museum. Friedman had completed his part of the bargain.

“And this is from me.” I added it to the pile.

“So you see,” Alice said, “you’re my friend too.”

“It would appear so.” I answered. “But I suggest you not be presumptuous.”

The next morning I had to accompany Alice to school, as the weight of the gold objects that had accumulated in our apartment had reached seventeen kilograms.

Handing her the bag at the entrance to the school I said,

“I quite forgot about your punishment.”

“About what?”

“On Sunday you will be taking the Zoo’s Centaurian Blue Leopard on a trip to the Mineralogical Museum.”

“Take the Blue Leopard to the Museum? But he’s too… too stupid!”

“Yes. He’ll be there to scare the mice. And you’ll be there to see he doesn’t frighten anyone else.”

“Agreed.” Alice said. “And we are going on the expedition.”