Ziggy, whose two fingers have healed, has already bowed to what seems inevitable. He's signed up for that trip to Neptune's uranium pits. There's plenty of room for more volunteers, he tells us. But I spend my time cussing the guy who forgot to set the force field at the other end of the hole and let John and his _Zloomph_ back into his own time dimension. I cuss harder when I think how we were robbed of the best bass player in the galaxy. And without a corpus delecti we can't even sue the city. ... THE END End of Project Gutenberg's The Holes and John Smith, by Edward W. Ludwig