For a moment they simply stared at the transformed bundle of rags. In the light it had suddenly developed a head, arms and legs. It was lying on its stomach with its face turned painfully toward them. A crude gag covered the lower half of its face and its hands were lashed behind its back, which probably explained the mysterious pinchings. The feet were bound together like the hands. It said, "Hisst!" Marc and Toffee ran to it. They knelt beside it, and Marc untied the gag. A small hawk-like face peered up at them. "Culpepper!" Marc gasped. He turned to Toffee. "It's a snake after all." The little man sighed with relief. "Hurry and untie me," he said. "They'll kill me." "And I'll help them," Marc said. The little man blinked. "How's that?" he asked. "I'm Pillsworth," Marc said. "Look at me." "Ah, yes," the little man said. "Mr. Pillsworth's son. I see the resemblance, though your mother must have been an exceptionally large-eared woman. Untie me, sonny, and...." * * * * * Marc choked. "Don't sonny me, you degenerate genius," he grated. "I'm Marc Pillsworth, the Marc Pillsworth you were chattering to death in his office a little while ago, the Marc Pillsworth who used to be over six feet tall, so that his ears didn't look so big ... that's the Marc Pillsworth I am, butter brain. I took a couple of your pills. Look at me, you monster!" "What!" The little man struggled to sit up under his bonds. "You _what_!" "Took a couple of your pills. And frankly, Mr. Culpepper, I am not satisfied with the results. I want my money ba.... I mean, you've got to get us out of this. My wife isn't going to understand." "Us?" the little man asked. He glanced at Toffee. "Her, too?" Marc nodded. "You'd better whip out an antidote or I'll turn you over to whoever is trying to kill you before you can say corpus delicti. I'll even loan them my old blunderbuss which is guaranteed to blast a hole a foot deep in a wall of solid concrete." "An antidote?" the little man said. "I don't have one. I've been working on one, but I haven't thought it out completely yet. If you'll just get me out of here, I promise to do what I can." "Untie him," Toffee said, already grappling with the ropes round his ankles. "Hurry." Marc nodded and set to work on Mr. Culpepper's wrists. "Who's trying to kill you?" he asked. "Mr. and Mrs. Harper," the little man said. "They want my formula for Fixage. I met them down in the Marlborough district. It's a pretty bad neighborhood. My laboratory is down there in an old building, I couldn't afford anything better. Anyway, I met these people one night ... I guess I was drinking a little too much ... and I told them about Fixage and how I was going to make a fortune with it. They were quite impressed. Ah, my dear, that feels good. My feet had nearly gone to sleep." "Go on," Marc said. "What about the Harpers?"