"Look, Mr. Billig, we've been all through this before. They're absolutely convinced that cat is terribly dangerous. They think it can control minds and change personalities, and they seem to think they have cases to prove it, including four top officials who've managed to skip the country, apparently headed for Russia. They've taken all sorts of secret steps, not only to find the cat, but to guard the president and all important officials from any possible contact with it. As far as our information goes, the first government theory was that the cat came from Russia, that the Lysenko view of genetics was true and that the Russkies were able to breed intelligent animals with extrasensory powers, for use as spies and saboteurs and possibly to replace a large part of the world's population. But now the government seems to believe that the cat is a mutant or monster of some sort and that it's in a position to conquer America--the whole world even--by controlling feelings and thoughts." Phil sat up indignantly. He wanted to say, "Why, Lucky isn't like that at all." In his interest in the conversation, he had almost forgotten his incredible situation. "I know, I know," Billig was saying, "but what do you think about it, Brimstine?" Brimstine shrugged. "I think they're nuts," he said happily. "The cat didn't seem anything peculiar to me, though I'm taking no chances. I think it's all a grade-A delusion, a top secret panic." "You think they're nuts and you expect me not to worry," Billig groaned. "Where's that FBL man?" "On his way," Brimstine assured him. "Everything's going to turn out all right." "That's what you told me when the president first started to take action against Fun," Billig flared. "You said it was just a bluff, a sop to the midwestern vote. You told me Barnes was a drunken farmer who could be got at twenty ways. You told me it would all blow over, like the other six times. Well, it didn't. Something happened that changed things." "I know," Brimstine admitted, seeming for once at a loss for easy words. "Do you know yet what happened?" Billig pressed. Brimstine shrugged. "I think Barnes is nuts." "That's your explanation for everything!" Billig roared softly. "If something happens this time, do you suppose I'll be happy because you tell me the coppers arresting me are nuts? Where _is_ the FBL man?" "You really should try and relax, I tell you, Mr. Billig," Moe Brimstine suggested, recovering himself. "Distract yourself somehow. Like with Dora here." And ignoring Billig's third, "Pfui," Brimstine looked at her critically. "Fix your mouth, dear," he said. With a graceful obedience that nevertheless managed to be contemptuous the violet blonde beauty slid from the table and came straight toward Phil, who decided that now at last they'd have to stop pretending he wasn't there. "Get that slinky walk, Mr. Billig," Moe Brimstine was urging. "What a gorgeous babe, eh?"