Naturally, this had to be told. The State of Ohio wants Cooling guns for its police officers; after this, other States will undoubtedly follow suit. The Armed Forces don't want to suppress it. And Dr. Whitney will start production in just another week. They've been very decent about paying my hospital bills and seeing that nothing else happens to me. Even though Sgt. Falasca was saddled with the latter responsibility, I must repeat that he's treated me very well. The future will depend a lot on men like him. As for the rest--I've been assured that the guinea pigs were honorably retired to the breeding farm; Nurse wouldn't let me keep them here. Everyone knows of the violent end of the Claggett gang. I want to state vigorously at this point that, despite widespread public belief, neither I nor the Cooling gun had anything whatsoever to do with it. I never at any time even saw Claggett or any member of his gang. Their unwitting contribution was the alerting of Sgt. Falasca and the rest of the police, and, as I mentioned at the beginning of this account, Claggett's stealing a Porsche like mine because he was fond of sports cars. That's the whole of the story, except for one additional item: This is scheduled to appear at the same time as the plans and specifications for the Cooling gun. You'll find them given as premiums with safety razors, breakfast cereals, cigarettes and other articles. I wish to thank the manufacturers for their kind cooperation. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Touch of E Flat, by Joe Gibson