"We haven't got time to threaten them," Cecil said. "Do we have any chains?" "Oh, lots," Cecil said. "I'll go get them." In the meantime, everyone had forgotten about George. Unobserved, the materialized ghost had wandered interestedly in the direction of the giant catapult. Noting the compartment provided for the human missile, he turned back and studied Marc's lean figure with thoughtful calculation. He stroked his chin for a moment, then nodded with satisfaction. In a moment Cecil returned, dragging several lengths of chain after him. At gun point, Marc and Toffee seated themselves in chairs at the far side of the room and submitted unhappily to an iron-clad captivity. George, however, was permitted to move about freely; the brothers had quite rightly reasoned that since ghosts were notorious for romping about in chains, George would probably be quite unhampered by them. After that, cautioning Marc to get to work immediately thinking about the formula, they dispatched themselves to the huge contrivance in the center of the room and began busily setting dials and levers. Marc and Toffee considered the current state of affairs without heart. Toffee turned to George, who had left the catapult and had now arranged himself lazily on a nearby scaffolding. She smiled demurely. "Nice George," she cooed. "You're going to help us, aren't you George? You're not going to leave us sitting here in these awful cold chains. We might catch cold." George crossed his arms complacently over his chest and shook his head. "You should have been nicer to me," he said pettishly. "If there's anything I hate," Toffee said, "it's a spoiled spook." She turned to Marc. "What are we going to do?" * * * * * Marc shrugged hopelessly. "Just stall, I guess," he said, "as long as we can, anyway." "And then what?" Toffee asked. "Are you going to give them the formula?" Marc shook his head. "No." "They'll kill you." Marc sighed. "I suppose they will. I only wish I could see Julie again, and explain everything to her." Toffee smiled with unexpected softness. "You really do love her, don't you?" she asked. "I guess I must," Marc said, "or I wouldn't feel this way." For a moment they were silent. Then Toffee suddenly brightened. "I know what!" she cried. Marc looked up hopefully. "It's so simple I don't know why we didn't think of it right away. All you have to do is go to sleep!" "Go to sleep?" "Sure. Don't you remember? I told you. When you go to sleep, I dematerialize. But when you wake up I'm automatically recreated through your awareness. But I can place my shots, so to speak. You see? All you have to do is go to sleep. I'll disappear and then, when you wake up again, I'll materialize somewhere else and go to the police for help." Marc thought it over. "It's worth trying," he said. "Do you know how to get back to town?" "No," Toffee admitted, "I don't. But the main thing is just to get out of here, isn't it?"