"I'm going to get my invention back. Besides they can't hurt me, and the important thing is to give you a chance to escape." "Okay," Marc nodded and faded into the dimness behind the crates. * * * * * Toffee moved to the nearest stack of boxes, boosted herself atop them and leaned back in an attitude of relaxed languor. She watched from the corner of her eye as the door swung open and the congressman and the thug advanced into the room. She lifted her gaze dreamily to the ceiling and began to hum quietly to herself. "There she is, boss," the thug said. "There's the dame, up there." "My word!" Congressman Entwerp said. "Where did Pillsworth ever pick her up?" "In a Turkish bath, I guess, before they passed out the towels." Toffee turned slowly and observed the two with heavy disdain. "Please be quiet," she drawled, "you're disturbing my meditations." "Where's Pillsworth?" the thug asked. Toffee shrugged. "Somewhere around, I suppose." "Okay, sister," the thug growled, "cut out the jazz. Where is he?" "You're sure you want to know?" "We insist," Congressman Entwerp said. "Then just step nearer," Toffee said with an airy wave, "and feast your eyes. You will find Mr. Pillsworth--more or less--on the floor, just to the right of these boxes. I'm sure you'll excuse him if he doesn't rise to greet you." Warily, the two men edged closer. Then suddenly the thug, catching sight of George in his disconnected condition, stopped short. His mouth worked soundlessly, and his eyes rolled loosely in their sockets. The congressman, not yet aware of George, looked at him. "What's the matter with you?" he asked shortly. "Why are you standing there making faces? Stop that and...!" The tirade ended abruptly as the congressman's gaze fell to George. He lost his breath in a thin wheeze. For a long moment the two men simply goggled, then slowly they turned away. "You fool!" the congressman screamed. "I only told you to finish him off, not to hack him up into cutlets!" "But I didn't!" the thug said shakenly. "He was all right when I locked him in here." "Then, who...!" Together, the two of them turned and regarded Toffee with incredulous eyes. Toffee returned their stares with innocent directness. "Yes, gentlemen?" she murmured. "Did you...?" the congressman began, then broke off with a shudder. "Did I what?" Toffee asked demurely. "What the congressman means," the thug said in a whisper, "is did you ... do _that_?" "Oh, that," Toffee said. She returned her gaze thoughtfully to the ceiling as though trying to remember. Finally she shook her head. "No," she said. "I'm certain that's not one of my jobs. Too messy." The men gaped. "Holy smoke!" the thug quavered. "What happened to him?" "Who knows?" Toffee shrugged. "Maybe he has some horrible disease. I figure it's his business."