The President pondered this. "After his capture," he said thoughtfully, "he would be questioned. Through various methods--hopelessly at variance with the regulations of the Geneva Convention--they would discover his mission, and then he would be shot, I guess, or imprisoned." Blake nodded grimly. "And what if an agent landed there that could _not_ divulge his mission?" <tb> The Secretary stopped fiddling with the harness and watched the President's face. On the worn features he read first puzzlement, then incredulity, then a flash of sheer amazement. "Good heavens!" said the President. "They'd--they'd have to admit a defeat, I suppose...." "But can they?" Blake leaned forward and slammed his fist upon the tabletop. "Can the Communist mentality ever admit that it's been bested?" "I--I guess not. At least, they never do," said the President. "But this--" he wagged a forefinger at the stuffed thing on the table--"this certainly won't upset them. I mean, after all...." He looked from one to the other for agreement and found none. "But, gentlemen, it's nothing but a stuffed bear!" "It won't upset them?" queried Blake slowly. "Are you sure?" "Of course I'm sure. They'll find the bear, wherever it lands, and they'll--well, they'll _know_ it's a gag and just laugh at us." "_How_ will they know?" Blake persisted. "Well, they'll be _pretty_ well certain!" the President said scathingly: "I mean a stuffed toy--" "Would they give up on something of which they were 'pretty well' certain?" "They'd have to. Teddy, here, certainly couldn't tell them anything. They'd say it was a joke and forget it...." His voice barely sounded the last few words. He no longer believed them. A smile flickered upon his face. "Gentlemen, you don't think they'd--" "The Russians," said Blake, without emotion, "would go off their rockers, sir. To be unable to explain a thing like this would devastate their morale. The Communist is a man who must hold all the aces. He'll shuffle and reshuffle until he gets them, too. Well, we're giving him a cold deck, sir. There are no aces for him to find." "Hmmm," said the President. "As long as there's any doubt in their minds, they'll have to keep plugging at it, won't they! And since there's no solution--" His smile grew calculating. "Yes, yes I begin to see. It's a small thing, to be sure, but I find I must leap at the opportunity to stick a few ants in _their_ pants for a change." "It won't wipe them out," began the Secretary. "But it'll wear them down a little," Blake finished. "Done!" said the President. "How soon can we get Operation Frustration under way?" "The plane is ready to leave right now," said the Secretary, with a small blush. "I--I rather thought you'd see this thing our way." The President frowned at this, then shrugged. "Good enough. Let's get this bear into the air." <tb>