He half-sprawled on the slippery deck, regained his balance, and stood still and looked at the white-god who had treated him so cavalierly.

The meanness and unfairness had brought from Jerry no snarling threat of retaliation, such as he would have offered Lerumie or any other black.

Nor in his brain was any thought of retaliation.

This was no Lerumie.

This was a superior god, two-legged, white-skinned, like Skipper, like Mister Haggin and the couple of other superior gods he had known.