"And make up your mind right now that this is a business trip. If Pillsworth is not dead or definitely dying when you arrive you will return instantly. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir." "And if he isn't dead or dying you will do nothing to alter this state of affairs. You will not undertake on your own initiative to shove him off tall buildings, under moving trucks or into open manholes. You will not threaten him with ropes, guns, explosives, rare poisons or knives, or attempt to dispatch him to heaven by means of rocket. Have you got all that straight?" "Yes, sir," George said quietly. "Hands off. I understand." "I hope you do," the Head said ominously, "for your own sake. Anyway, I suppose you'd better go along now and start checking out through Supply. All that's left here is for you to raise your right hand and swear by memory to the Ten Commandments of the Hunter's code. However, I suppose you've got them all cribbed on the sleeve of your robe." George lowered his gaze. "Yes, sir," he murmured. "I have." "Then skip it," the Head sighed resignedly. "Just clear out." "Yes, sir," George said, brightening. "Thank you, sir." As the mists swirled up around George, and he gradually dissolved into their vaporish currents, a joyous grin lighted his face.... * * * * * Three sets of eyes fastened clinically on the X-ray with worried, professional interest. "There's a slight chance," the first doctor said, "if we operate immediately." "Too slight," the second murmured. "The bullet's too close to the heart. He'll die on the table." "He'll die anyway. We're merely taking the only chance there is." "I suppose so. Has his wife arrived yet?" "She's with him now." "He's not conscious, is he?" "No, certainly not, but they could not keep her away." "We'd better explain how it is. We're almost certain to lose him." "I suppose so." There was a pause before they turned and reluctantly left the room. Outside, in the hospital corridor, the first doctor proceeded to the door at the end of the hall while the other two stayed behind. He opened the door and quietly stepped inside. Marc lay still on the bed, his pleasant face drawn and pale against the pillow. Julie sat beside the bed, a classic figure of silent grief, her blonde beauty drained with uncomprehending fright. She did not cry. Nor did she move as the doctor walked toward her from the door. "Mrs. Pillsworth ..." the doctor said, but Julie remained motionless. He moved closer to her and placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "We've just seen the X-ray." At this Julie looked up. "We'll have to operate instantly. The preparations are being made now." He paused. "The chances for success are negligible." Julie nodded dazedly. "I know," she whispered. "I know...." She did not resist as the doctor took her arm and guided her to the door. At the last moment, though, she paused and looked back at the lean face on the pillow.