It was plain that the dwarf saw no reason for restraining his anger, but he was sufficiently uncertain to hold back. "Brian Shanachie should mind his own business," he growled. "Now, I'm looking for Alviss...." "I'm Alviss." "Good," Kevan said. He had no idea of how to go about adjusting the matter which he'd been sent to fix, but he had determined on a firm course. "Now, what seems to be the matter, Alviss?" he asked briskly. "Matter?" repeated Alviss, his voice going up a few octaves. For a moment, it looked as if he might succumb to his rage, but he controlled it. "I made the finest gneiss that has ever been formed in the entire history of Midgard. No sooner had it hardened than you mortals came along and cracked it right down the center." "But it was an accident," Kevan said. "An atom bomb was being tested and it was by accident that they happened to set it off over your work. You see, these atom bomb tests are a part of our national defense program--" "So it's defending yourselves you are," Alviss said grimly. "Then you can just defend yourselves against me." "I'm sure," Kevan said, "that the Combined Command would have been more careful but--well, I'm afraid that the truth of the matter is that the Army doesn't officially believe in gnomes." "They don't, eh?" said Alviss with a nasty grin. "Then they'll have nobody to blame but themselves when their fine bombs bounce back in their laps and when the barrels of their guns turn to rubber and drop the bullets at their feet." "You mustn't do that," Kevan said hastily. "The psychiatrists would only pin a label on it which would destroy the morale of our Army. To say nothing to what it would do to the WAC and the WAVE. There must be some other solution." "No," said Alviss firmly. "My honor is at stake." "But there must be another way of saving your honor. You look like a reasonable--er--person, Mr. Alviss. I'm sure that between the two of us, we can find a way...." "Well," said Alviss and there was a shrewd look in his eyes, "perhaps, if you were to bring me Thrud...." "Thread?" exclaimed Kevan, relief coming with the misunderstanding. "What kind?" "Not thread," said Alviss. "Thrud. Do you mean, mortal, that you do not know the story of Alviss?" Kevan shook his head. "What's your name, mortal?" "Kevan MacGreene." "'Tis a good name," said the dwarf. * * * * *