This concluded, they tottered on to the end of the aisle and down the stairs.

"Going astray!" Marc sang vaporishly. "Going astray! I'm jus' going astray!"

With a wild lurch the two fugitives precariously left the stairs and emerged onto the first floor. As they started unsteadily down the aisle a veiled and voluminous lady in black turned from her examination of a silk blouse and observed their progress with smiling approval. She turned benignly to the sales girl who was serving her.

"Isn't that sweet?" she murmured. "Imagine a stunning girl like that sacrificing a day to take her poor old blind father shopping."

Toffee and Marc proceeded in a more or less orderly fashion to the doorway, leaving the good Sergeant to ransack a store now empty of its quarry.

Five minutes later and three blocks removed from the department store, the two law-evaders paused to reconnoitre. Or at least Toffee reconnoitred while Marc, still sightless behind his glasses, awaited directions. He held out his hand in readiness, waiting to be led. At his side, Toffee momentarily broke her mood of concentration.

"As I see it," she said, "our next move is to flee the city."

"But what about the druggist?" Marc said. "I've got to find out about my eyes." He stopped as he became aware of a nervous tugging at his sleeve.

"Hey, man," a voice said, "I've been lookin' for you everywheres."

Marc hastily lowered his glasses. He glanced down to find a familiar shifty-eyed, weasel-like face peering up at him.

"You!" he said.

"Yeah, man," the diminutive peddler of lewd pictures grinned. "You still got the cool stuff, huh?"

"The cool stuff?" Marc said with sudden stiffness. "If you mean that collection of disgusting pictures, no I haven't got them. At the moment, I believe they're listed as Exhibit A in the case of The People against Marcus G. Pillsworth."

"Man!" the little man wailed. "You mean somebody goofed and the cops got 'em?"

"Precisely," Marc said frigidly.

"Who's this Pillsworth cube?"

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