"I think we ought to banish George from our minds," Toffee said. "Besides, now that I've got the bottle back I don't intend to be free about handing it around for quite some time." "All right," Marc said. "Have it your way. George is banished." There was a prolonged period of contented silence, broken intermittently by faint gurgling sounds, first from one side of the closet then the other. It was Toffee who finally spoke. "By the way," she said, "what was all that nonsense about your getting yourself shot?" "Oh, that," Marc said negligently. "It's a bunch of subversives. They have a subtle plan to poison the minds of the public against the government--with the government's permission. I went on the air to expose them, but they had me shot to stop me. There was this dark fellow with a scar over his left eye in the control booth...." He paused. "Holy smoke! I forgot. This is serious business, isn't it?" "It sounds like it," Toffee said. "How far did you get in your broadcast?" "I didn't even get started. I suppose I ought to try to do it again." "If they think you're dead or dying, they won't be watching for you any more." "That's right," Marc said. "Let's get out of here." "Okay," Toffee said. "Just take your arms away from my waist so I can get up." "Huh?" Marc said. "I don't have my arms around your waist." "You haven't!" Toffee said. "Didn't you take the gadget from under my arm either?" "Of course not." "It's that sneaky George," Toffee snorted. "And when I think of how I was enjoying it...!" She turned in the darkness. "Let go of me before I lose my temper, George. So help me, you spurious spectre, I'll twist your head off when I get ahold of you." There was no answer but apparently the threat had taken hold; there were sounds of Toffee getting to her feet. "That'll hold him," she said. "Look outside and see how things are. I want that gadget back." Marc fumbled his way to the door, opened it a crack, then shoved it all the way open. "All clear," he said and turned back to Toffee. "Can you see him back there? Is he visible?" "I can just make him out," Toffee said, peering into the back of the closet. "He's sort of lurking." "Okay, you rat," Marc said. "Come out of there and give it to us. Snap into it." There were shuffling sounds from the shadows and slowly a figure emerged into the light. It was a dark, heavy figure. The face was swarthy and there was a scar over the left eye. The man leered at the two in the doorway. "Okay," he said. "Keep your shirts on. I'm going to give it to you all right. I'm going to give it to you good." He moved closer. In his left hand was Toffee's gadget, in his right an enormous revolver. * * * * *