"Glad you admire my work," George said complacently out of thin air. "Isn't it remarkable how exactly alike our voices sound?" "Go to hell," Marc said sullenly. "If I do I'll probably meet you there," George said. "The old boy has you marked down for a sanity test. I heard him say so as you left up there. Somehow, it warms me to think of you locked up with a bunch of homicidal maniacs. Who's to say what might happen to you?" The gavel rapped on the bench again, this time more calmly. "I'd like to speak to the congressman," the judge announced. "Not that I put any stock in the ridiculous accusations of that black-hearted nit-wit, but I would like to talk to someone rational for a change." Across the room, the congressman rose from his chair with portly composure. "I'm happy for the opportunity to defend myself against the ravings of this lunatic," he said smoothly, "though I'm certain the court hasn't taken them the least bit seriously." "Of course not, congressman," the judge said grandly. "This court is always fair and impartial. Step up and have a chair. I'm sorry I can't offer you a drink during session, but perhaps we could have lunch together somewhere?" "Good grief!" Toffee whispered. "They're carrying on like old sweet-hearts." * * * * * The congressman smiled pityingly at Marc. "Actually, I have the greatest compassion for our poor friend here," he said magnanimously. "Who knows what dreadful experience drove him out of his senses?" "Why the old foghorn!" Marc hissed between clenched teeth. "He's got enough gall to float a fleet." "As for his fantastic charges," the congressman continued, "they're almost too silly to refute." He beamed on the judge. "I think you know just about how subversive I am, your honor." The judge smiled broadly. "Call me Ralph," he said. "Okay, Ralph," the congressman smiled. "And about that bacteria business; the only bacteria culture I have is home in the refrigerator. I just happened to let some cheese go mouldy." The judge laughed immoderately. "Oh, Congressman!" he gasped, wiping his eyes. "You always were a wit!" Toffee frowned her disapproval. "This is worse than television," she said. "What am I going to do?" Marc said. "I can't let him get away with it. I'll wind up in an asylum while he sells the whole country down the river." Toffee nodded morosely. "We've got to think of something," she said. "If they won't listen to sense, I guess the only thing to do is resort to madness." "How do you mean?" "Trade seats with me," Toffee said. "I want to talk to George." "It won't do any good. He won't listen to sense any more than the rest of them." "That's all right," Toffee said. "What I have in mind is more nonsense--and a little hypnotism." "Hypnotism?" "Uh-huh. I told you I've been studying. Come on, trade." * * * * *