"Allavarg," yawned Richie. "No!" He snapped to, alert and wary. "I mean _Steve_." His father looked up sharply. "What's that?" "What?" asked Richie. "Richie," said Jonathan, "what's a Caroom?" The boy shrugged and muttered, "_I_ dunno." "Oh, yes, you do!" Jonathan lit a cigarette. "What's an Allavarg?" He watched the boy bite his lips and stare out the window. "He's a friend, isn't he?" coaxed Jonathan. "_Your_ friend? Does he play with you?" The blond head nodded slowly and uncertainly. "Where does he live?" persisted Jonathan. "Does he come over here and play in your yard? Does he, Richie?" The boy stared at his father, worried and unhappy. "Sometimes," he whispered. "Sometimes he does, if I call him." "How do you call him?" asked Jonathan. He was beginning to feel foolish. "Why," said Richie, "I just say 'Here, Allavarg!' and he comes, if he's not too busy." "What keeps him busy?" Such nonsense! Allavarg was undoubtedly an imaginary playmate. This whole hunch of his was utter nonsense. He should be at work on Easton instead of-- "The nursery keeps him busy," said Richie. "Real busy." * * * * * Jonathan frowned. Did Richie mean the greenhouse down the road? Was there a Mr. Allavarg who worked there? "Whose nursery?" "Ours." Richie wrinkled his face thoughtfully. "I think I better go outside and play." "_Our_ nursery?" Jonathan stared at his son. "Where is it?" "I think I better go play," said Richie more firmly, sliding off the chair. "Richard! _Where_ is the nursery?" The full lower lip began to tremble. "I can't tell you!" Richie wailed. "I promised!" Jonathan slammed his fist on the desk. "Answer me!" He knew he shouldn't speak this way to Richie; he knew he was frightening the boy. But the ideas racing through his mind drove him to find out what this was all about. It might be nothing, but it also might be--"Answer me, Richard!" The child stifled a sob. "Here," he said weakly. "_Here_? Where?" "In my house," said Richie. "And Steve's house and Billy's and all over." He rubbed his eyes, leaving a grimy smear. "All right," soothed Jonathan. "It's all right now, son. Daddy didn't mean to scare you. Daddy has to learn these things, that's all. Just like learning in school." The boy shook his head resentfully. "_You_ know," he accused. "You just forgot." "What did I forget, Richie?" "You forgot all about Allavarg. He told me! It was a different Allavarg when you were little, but it was almost the same. You used to play with _your_ Allavarg when you were little like me!" Jonathan took a deep breath. "Where did Allavarg come from, Richie?" But Richie shook his head stubbornly, lips pressed tight. "I promised!" "Richie, a promise like that isn't a good one," pleaded Jonathan. "Allavarg wouldn't want you to disobey your father and mother, would he?" The child sat and stared at him. This was a very disturbing thought and Jonathan could see Richie did not know how to deal with it.