Detective and mystery stories; Science fiction; Short stories
"Woman, you have no idea of values. Since money has become replaced
by credit and barter, such pieces as this have become invaluable
collectors' items. Even before that it was valuable. You could buy a
lead dime with it. And if you were clever enough you could use the lead
dime to buy a tin half-dollar. Then you could change the half-dollar
into wooden quarters and begin all over again. A shrewd man could
amass a fortune in counterfeit dollars by such trading. Of course, he
couldn't buy anything with the counterfeit dollars, but reflection on
the trading would strengthen his mind while he rested behind bars.
At least that's the way history relates it. Zoo! Take this precious
nickel, handle it carefully and with due reverence, seal it in a tube,
send it through the pneumatic to the armored transport, have them place
a hundred men armed to the teeth about it, and escort it solemnly and
without undue ostentation to the Universal Bank, that institution
which covers eight square miles and towers ten thousand feet into the
air, and deposit it with proper ceremony to my account. I shall be the
wealthiest man on this planet and the envy of every creature in the
galaxy. But don't worry, Mrs. Brown and Smith! I shall not overcharge
you. You have two cents change coming, a tidy sum--nay a fortune--and
your case is as good as solved. Zoo! Sound the alarm. We go into action
at once."
* * * * *
Bells clanged, a siren screamed, a series of red lights flashed on
and off and on and off, and a distant rumble shook the building. The
blonde woman caught her breath, gripped the arms of her chair to steady
herself, waited until the noise and the shaking had subsided, then
asked, "Do you always go into action like that?"
"Invariably," Zitts affirmed serenely. "Seismographs all over the world
register when Len Zitts launches himself in pursuit of a criminal, and
the underworld trembles in despair. But," he added a trifle wistfully,
"it doesn't register on Mars and Venus and they never send reporters
and photographers. I'm thinking of installing a heavier vibrator. Zoo!
You may inform the inquirers who will be hounding you in a moment that
the nemesis of crime has plunged forth to strike death and terror
to the heart of criminals. You may elaborate that a bit. Mention
my towering figure, nearly five feet tall, and the bulging muscles
which back up my eighty-six pounds of weight. You may also speak of
my handsome features, but not in a manner to attract more than a few
thousand women. I have enough wives already. Now! Clear the deck! Here
we go."
The blonde woman gathered her small feet under her, preparing to
leap out of the way, and she took a deep breath for fear all of the
air would be sucked out of the room in the wake of his rush; but to
her astonishment he merely slumped down in the chair and, to all
appearance, went to sleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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