"We must realize," the Chair was saying, "that an opportunity has been placed in our hands. The enemy is helpless. _Now is the time to strike!_" * * * * * There was a pause while this sank in, and then the cheering and rough-housing began again with greater vigor. "Rickety-rax!" One vaporish congressman giggled, slipping limply from his chair to the floor. "Rickety-rax! Give 'em the axe!" A colleague at his right launched a squadron of paper darts into the air as the guitarist twanged away at an off-key rendition of the _Air Corps Song_. This musical interlude, however, came to an unhappy end as the gentleman across the table, finishing the pierced heart with a flourish, picked up an inkwell and emptied it into the bowels of the instrument. There was a splintering crash as the donner received his contribution, guitar and all, across the crown of his head. Undaunted, the man rose from his seat and launched into a lamentable imitation of Jolson doing a mammy song. "We'll kill 'em!" the cry went up. "We'll give it to 'em in the teeth, the dirty, yella, murderin' rats!" "Gentlemen!" the Chair pleaded. "Gentlemen! Your enthusiasm and patriotic spirit is commendable. But let's be constructive about this thing. _Let's declare war!_" Toffee and Marc, who had been watching this display with rising emotion, got to their feet simultaneously. "Now just a minute!" Toffee yelled. "Just a minute, you tramps!" "Precisely," Marc said, steadying himself against the table. "Just a minute." But their protest was unheard in the din of the merry-making. "I can see," Toffee said, lifting her hand, "that the time is due to take measures." "For once," Marc said, "I'm with you one hundred percent." He moved to her side in a limp gesture of staunch support, blinking drowsily. Toffee eyed the revelling law makers with a selective eye. Her gaze fell to two rotund parties who, their arms clasped about each other's shoulders, were dancing a polka in the aisle. As one of the bulbous rears swiveled in her direction, she let go. It was a direct hit on the target. With a searing cry the erstwhile dancer unclasped his partner and doubled over, his chops aquiver with an emotion too great for expression. His partner, at first taken aback, eyed this inexplicable development with bleary gloom. Then he beamed with happy understanding. "Leap frog!" he yelled joyously. "Hey, fellas! Leap frog!" * * * * * The rush for the aisle was instantaneous and enthusiastic. As the playful congressmen lined up for the game, Toffee leaped to the top of the table and assumed a firing stance. Taking careful aim as the first gamester wheezed up the aisle and boosted himself aloft over the back of his suffering brother, she executed a neat wing shot which dropped her victim into place with a convulsion of shocked pain. "Fish in a barrel," Toffee said gleefully.