Toffee handed him the bottle, and for a moment they sat silent listening dreamily to the sounds of gnashing teeth and grunted curses that filled the air about them. Marc looked over to where the President and his cronies had fallen into a stupor of misery. "Looks like the government has collapsed," he observed drowsily. "I might say it has a pain in its brass." Even as he spoke, the President lifted an enfeebled hand and beckoned to them. "I think the President wishes a word with us." "Isn't it thrilling," Toffee said, "meeting all these important people on such intimate terms?" She tilted the bottle again. "Let's toddle over and see what the old comic wants." "This is excruciating!" the President panted as they approached. "You've got to stop it; it's unbearable." "Now you know how people felt about your jokes," Toffee said. "I take it you're on the verge of capitulation?" "Over the verge," the President grunted weakly. "Huh, fellas?" * * * * * Four sets of clenched teeth bobbed up and down behind him, accompanied by the plaintive rattle of metal. "Good show, men," Toffee said. "That's using the old heads. Follow me to the telephones the best way you can and start the wires singing--my tune, of course." Half an hour later Toffee and Marc let themselves out of the room by the back way and walked along the corridor toward the street. "I'm hungry as an abandoned babe," Toffee said. Marc regarded her from beneath drooping eyelids. "I don't know if I can stay awake long enough to feed you," he said. Then he stopped and nodded worriedly back the way they'd come. "Are you sure you ought to leave them all groaning around in there like that?" "Until after the fireworks tonight," Toffee said. "When it comes to backing out on your word those boys could face to the rear and win the Olympic races without straining a nerve. Besides, suffering has a cleansing effect on the soul, they tell me, and that mob in there has the grimiest set of souls I've ever seen. I informed the lot of them that if they welched on this deal they'd stay that way the rest of their lives and would have to be buried in round coffins. We can come back and turn them loose later." "I suppose you're right," Marc said. "Right now, I've got to have a pot of coffee before I pass out." By now they had reached the sidewalk and luckily spotted a cab. Waving for the driver's attention, they hurried forward. It was just as Marc reached for the door of the cab that he suddenly stumbled. All at once his weariness became too great to be borne further; it reached to his very bones and turned them to sawdust. As he went down to his knees the blackness swam in around him. He reached out a hand to steady himself, but there was nothing to cling to. He was vaguely aware of falling.... * * * * *