George, thoroughly humiliated at having been bested by a mere whisp of a girl, became emotionally confused, lost control, as before in the courtroom, and completely materialized. He looked up at Toffee sprawled untidily across his chest, and flushed. "You didn't have to knock me down," he murmured woundedly. Toffee glanced down at her defeated adversary and started with amazement. "Marc!" she cried. "How did you get down there?" At the phone booth Marc was still panting for breath. "Did you expect me to come out of there dancing a rhumba?" he asked peevishly. Toffee whirled about. "Marc!" she yelled. "Stop screaming my name at me," Marc said. "All I want is...!" * * * * * His voice retreated down his throat with a gurgle of surprise as he caught sight of George. "Wha...!" Toffee turned from one to the other. "Which one of you is which?" she gasped confusedly. "I'm me," Marc murmured vaguely. "Who's he?" Toffee sprang away from her perch on George's chest. "Oh, mother!" she cried. "Well," George said resignedly, getting to his feet. "I suppose that I might as well admit it, now that you've found me out." He turned to Marc. "I'm your ghost." "_Ghost!_" Marc and Toffee sang it out together. As Marc sprang to his feet, they both closed in on George, crowded him back defensively into one of the phone booths. During all this, the incident had attracted several innocent bystanders who were now looking on with baffled interest. "What have they got in there?" one official-looking gentleman asked another. "Did you see?" The other shook his head. "I think they said it was a goat." "A goat? What on earth are they doing with a goat in there? Do you suppose they have the beast talking to someone on the phone?" "If they have," the second replied, "it had better yell for help. They were crowding the poor thing something awful. On the other hand, maybe they just wanted to milk it. If it's a modest goat it might be reluctant about being milked right out here in the middle of the hall." "I know I would," the first gentleman said, "if I were a goat. I wouldn't blame it a bit. It's shocking, just the thought of it." "They're doing the best they can," the second gentleman reminded. "I can see where a reluctant goat wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world to get along with." "Just the same, I don't approve," the first man said. "Not even a little bit. If the goat is shy, they shouldn't bring it out in public to milk it like this." "Maybe they're trying to teach it social poise," the second man suggested. "I don't care," the first said. "Livestock should be left at home. Someone should speak to the Health Commissioner about this!" The second man shook his head with mild amusement. "That shouldn't be difficult for you," he said. "You are the Health Commissioner. Or did they get you in the last clean-up?"