It is hard to say what the fellow expected to see, as he turned his head awkwardly to look above him, but judging by subsequent developments, it is a pretty safe guess that it was not a redhead in a dangerous black evening gown, lounging radiantly on the shoulders of his partners, graciously blowing kisses to the audience. To say that the man was shaken, is to tell the whole story. There was a dreadful series of whacking sounds as the forces of gravity worked swiftly to bring the entire act to an untimely end. As for Toffee, she alone descended gracefully, looking much like a streamlined ballerina, knocking off the swan after a busy day in the woods. As she bowed in the spotlight, the audience went nearly crazy with loud appreciation. "I knew they couldn't hold it long," she said breathlessly, rushing up to Marc. "They're not as strong as they look." "Never mind that!" Marc yelled. "Let's get out of here, before Ruby and Manny wake up. If they get ahold of us now, they'll tear us to ribbons." "But, I thought you wanted to talk to Manny about your brief case." "I don't think he'll be feeling very conversational," Marc rasped, grabbing Toffee's arm, and shoving her through the crowd. "Besides, he doesn't know anything about it. That was just a gag. All I'd get out of Manny would be a fractured skull. That's what Ruby was counting on." "But what are we going to do now?" "There's only one thing to do," Marc said, glancing hastily at his watch. "It's nearly eleven now. I'll have to go to the cemetery and try to make a deal." "Is a cemetery anything like a night club?" Toffee asked excitedly. Marc glanced back at the unheeded litter of prostrate figures that graced the Loma Club. "Quite a bit like this one," he said wryly. * * * * * Toffee settled herself comfortably on an ornate tombstone, and leaned languorously back to rest her head on the buttocks of a stone cupid. "Get down from there," Marc said sternly. "You look obscene." "In this moonlight, you're no work of art, yourself," Toffee replied lazily, making no effort to move. Marc shrugged helplessly, and seated himself watchfully at the base of the stone. "It's past eleven," he murmured. "I wish someone would show up. If I don't get that copy back, I might as well kiss my business goodbye right now." "Maybe Manny's got it after all," Toffee suggested. "And he's still out." "I don't think so. And speaking of him, I'd sure like to know who the little man under the table was. He just about saved my life when he grabbed Manny's ankle." Marc glanced around peering intently into the darkness that, except for occasional patches of bright moonlight that filtered through the trees, was all around them. "It looks like we're all alone here with the spooks." "What are spooks?" Toffee leaned forward, interested.