I looked at my machine with the sense of having created one of the greatest wonders of science. My voice was trembling with pride as I said to Mary and Mr. Eammer, "The things that can be done with this invention. The incredible things...." "Yes," said Mr. Eammer, gloating. "And it's mine, all mine." "You'll be the biggest man in the movie industry," I said solemnly. "You made a good investment." Mr. Eammer gave me a strange smile. "You are a great inventor, my boy, but you have a small imagination. _Biggest_ man in Hollywood, did you say? The _only_ man in Hollywood, you mean. Why, do you realize what I can do with this machine? I can own Hollywood, Television, Broadway. And I'll make a list of people I don't like that I'll get even with. Why, I can be Master of the Entertainment World...." The blinding realization of what I had done flared in my numbed brain. I had given a tremendous scientific weapon to a ruthless moron. And there was nothing I could do, because he had my blueprints locked in his safe.... I stepped forward and with full force hit Mr. Eammer on the jaw. As he sagged, I grabbed him and shoved him into the transmitter. "Look out," cried Mary. "He's getting up." "No," he said in a strangled voice as he struggled to his knees. "No. I'll ... _I'll fix you_...." I turned the dials full power, hit the directional switch with my open palm and closed my eyes. Mr. Eammer's voice cut off abruptly. When I opened my eyes, he was gone. "Thank heaven," gasped Mary in relief. * * * * * I immediately made computations and my figures showed that Mr. Eammer must have been transported to the Himalayas. That's the area where the Abominable Snowman had been sighted. That is why I must speak now, regardless of any opinions about the state of my sanity. I would not want Mr. Eammer shot by mistake, as he comes rushing toward a party of explorers. It's all right to bring him back now. I've smashed the machine beyond repair and, since Mary was Mr. Eammer's private secretary, she knew where to get the combination of his safe, so we were able to destroy my blueprints and technical notebooks. I've turned the million dollars over to Mr. Eammer's lawyers and they are now fighting off the creditors, who all think Mr. Eammer is deliberately hiding from them. Whatever you do, please don't take a shot at the Abominable Snowman. It is Mr. Eammer. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Don't Shoot, by Robert Zacks