The man grumbled, "Important! One lousy unit out of twenty-one thousand." "But it's the Burckhardt one, Mr. Dorchin. Again. And the way he got out of sight, he must have had some help." "All right, all right. It doesn't matter, Janet; the Choco-Bite program is ahead of schedule anyhow. As long as you're this far, come on in the office and make out your worksheet. And don't worry about the Burckhardt business. He's probably just wandering around. We'll pick him up tonight and--" They were inside the door. Burckhardt kicked it shut and pointed the gun. "That's what you think," he said triumphantly. It was worth the terrified hours, the bewildered sense of insanity, the confusion and fear. It was the most satisfying sensation Burckhardt had ever had in his life. The expression on the man's face was one he had read about but never actually seen: Dorchin's mouth fell open and his eyes went wide, and though he managed to make a sound that might have been a question, it was not in words. The girl was almost as surprised. And Burckhardt, looking at her, knew why her voice had been so familiar. The girl was the one who had introduced herself to him as April Horn. Dorchin recovered himself quickly. "Is this the one?" he asked sharply. The girl said, "Yes." Dorchin nodded. "I take it back. You were right. Uh, you--Burckhardt. What do you want?" * * * * * Swanson piped up, "Watch him! He might have another gun." "Search him then," Burckhardt said. "I'll tell you what we want, Dorchin. We want you to come along with us to the FBI and explain to them how you can get away with kidnapping twenty thousand people." "Kidnapping?" Dorchin snorted. "That's ridiculous, man! Put that gun away--you can't get away with this!" Burckhardt hefted the gun grimly. "I think I can." Dorchin looked furious and sick--but, oddly, not afraid. "Damn it--" he started to bellow, then closed his mouth and swallowed. "Listen," he said persuasively, "you're making a big mistake. I haven't kidnapped anybody, believe me!" "I don't believe you," said Burckhardt bluntly. "Why should I?" "But it's true! Take my word for it!" Burckhardt shook his head. "The FBI can take your word if they like. We'll find out. Now how do we get out of here?" Dorchin opened his mouth to argue. Burckhardt blazed: "Don't get in my way! I'm willing to kill you if I have to. Don't you understand that? I've gone through two days of hell and every second of it I blame on you. Kill you? It would be a pleasure and I don't have a thing in the world to lose! Get us out of here!" Dorchin's face went suddenly opaque. He seemed about to move; but the blonde girl he had called Janet slipped between him and the gun. "Please!" she begged Burckhardt. "You don't understand. You mustn't shoot!" "_Get out of my way!_" "But, Mr. Burckhardt--"