"Yes," Marc said, "but it's not as simple as that." Resignedly, he launched into the story of his domestic problems. "So, you see," he concluded imploringly, "I have to have the original jewels back or I might lose my wife." "And she's out two-timin' you with this Mario creep?" a voice said indignantly. "Disgustin'!" "You gotta take your rod and blast the guy," another voice said hotly. "Defendin' your home, you could get off scot free." "Hey!" Hotstuff broke in suddenly, "I got a great idea!" He grinned at his unseen audience with triumph. "Here we are, enjoyin' a healthful, restful day in the country, all at Mr. Pillsworth's expense. Well, now, don't it seem like we owe him some kind of token of thanks?" "Yeah!" Floss said happily. "Like an ash tray made like a toilet seat!" "Naw, Floss, nothin' like that," Hotstuff frowned. "What I mean is something real useful that he needs." "Yeah?" a voice asked eagerly. "Like what?" "Well, now I was thinkin'," Hotstuff said, "what Pillsworth, here, needs most is to have this Mario removed outa the way. Naturally, he can't go knock the guy off himself; he just ain't the type. So, what I got the idea for, is why don't we do the job for him? Kind of like a thank-you present because we're havin' such a nice time!" "Hey!" a voice growled enthusiastically, "that's a solid idea. It's got a lot of sentiment, too. Like one good turn deserves another." There was a general murmur of assent. "After all," the blond-sounding voice said soddenly, "what are friends for, except to go around and help out one another?" There was the sound of loud snuffling. "It kind of gets you when you stop and think about it. Who's got a rod that ain't hot?" "Now, wait a minute!" Marc yelled. "You can't do that! It's murder!" "But we gotta make up for the jewels, don't we?" Hotstuff said. "We gotta be honest with you, don't we?" Already, the murderous drunks had begun to swarm out of the dimness. The blue-jawed Moose appeared brandishing a wicked looking .38. "We'll all take shots at him," he chuckled, "and say it was a huntin' accident. That way, they won't be able to pin it on no one in particular." "Now, listen!" Marc rasped desperately. "I can't permit you to do this!" "Oh, it's really nothin'," Hotstuff said modestly. He motioned to his followers. "Come on, friends, to the woods!" "You mustn't do this!" Marc cried. "What a guy!" Moose growled admiringly. "You gotta practically fight him to even do him a little favor." * * * * * The band swarmed past Marc and up the steps. "We'll spread out and force him into the open!" Hotstuff yelled. "Stop!" Marc hollered. "Don't do it! I don't want you to!" But the last of the assassins reached the top of the steps and disappeared out the door. Marc turned hopelessly to Toffee. "I should have stayed in jail!" he said. "I can just see the newspapers when all this is over. Julie will divorce me for certain!"