Before he had taken the first step in a rearward direction, however, the hairy little man curved around him in a blur of motion, barring the way with two long, muscular, red-furred arms. Herman turned. The four-eyed little man had closed in. Herman, gasping, backed up against the bookstall. People who were headed directly for them, although showing no recognition that Herman and the little men were there, moved stiffly aside like dancing automatons, strode past, then made another stiff sidewise motion to bring them back to the original line of march before they went on their way. "Olaph dzenn Härm Rai gjo glerr-dregnarr?" demanded Hairy. Herman gulped, half-stunned. "Huh?" he said. Hairy turned to Four-Eyes. "Grinnr alaz harisi nuya." "Izzred alph! Meggi erd-halaza riggbörd els kamma gredyik. Lukhhal!" Hairy turned back to Herman. Blinking his eyes rapidly, for they closed like the shutter of a camera, he made a placating gesture with both huge furry hands. "Kelagg ikri odrum faz," he said, and, reaching out to the bookstall, he plucked out a handful of volumes, fanned them like playing cards and displayed them to Four-Eyes. A heated discussion ensued, at the end of which Hairy kept _For Whom the Bell Tolls_, Four-Eyes took _The Blonde in the Bathtub_, and Hairy threw the rest away. Then, while Herman gaped and made retching sounds, the two disgusting little men tore pages out of the books and stuffed them in their mouths. When they finished the pages, they ate the bindings. Then there was a rather sick pause while they seemed to digest the contents of the books they had literally devoured. Herman had the wild thought that they were blurb writers whose jobs had gone to their heads. The one with the four eyes rolled three of them horribly. "That's more like it," he said in nasal but recognizable English. "Let's start over. Are you Herman Raye, the skull doc?" Herman produced a series of incoherent sounds. "My brother expresses himself crudely," said Hairy in a rich, fruity baritone. "Please forgive him. He is a man of much heart." "Uh?" said Herman. "Truly," said Hairy. "And of much ears," he added with a glance at his companion. "But again, as to this affair--tell me true, are you Herman Raye, the analyst of minds?" "Suppose I am?" Herman asked cautiously. Hairy turned to Four-eyes. "Arghraz iktri 'Suppose I am,' Gurh? Olaph iktri erz ogromat, lekh--" "Talk English, can't you?" Four-eyes broke in. "You know he don't understand that caveman jabber. Anyhow, yeah, yeah, it's him. He just don't want to say so." He reached out and took Herman by the collar. "Come on, boy, the boss is waitin'." There were two circular hair-lines of glowing crimson where Hairy and Four-eyes had originally appeared. They reached the spot in one jump, Hairy bringing up the rear. "But tell me truly," he said anxiously. "You _are_ that same Herman Raye?"