ashes today. Why shouldn't I tell you about it?"

"That right, boss?" asked Wally.

"He's wishful thinking," snorted Benj.

Cal smiled inwardly. His protestation of what he knew to be the truth was working. The desire to work on Benj was running high, now, and Cal was reconsidering his idea of handing the thing to Benj scot-free.

"Let me loose. I'll show you how it works," he said.

"Not a peep out of it," warned Benj. "Wally, if he touches that switch before he takes the Key out of the reflector, drill him low and safe—but drill him!"

Cal knew the value of that order. The hands were freed, and he stepped forward with tools and removed the Key. "Now?" he asked sarcastically.

"Go ahead," said Benj.

"Thanks," grinned Cal. "That I will!" He took three steps forward and went out of the open window like a running jackrabbit. His strong fencer's wrists caught the trellis at the edge and he swung wide before he dropped to the ground several feet below. He landed running, and though the flashes of the needle beams scored the ground ahead of him, none caught him. He plowed through a hedge, jumped into his car, and drove off with a swaying drive that would disrupt any aim.

He drove to the Solarian Medical Association, where he found Dr. Lange in charge. In spite of the hour of the morning, he went in and spoke to the doctor.

Lange looked up surprised. "What are you doing here at this hour?" he asked with a smile.

"I've got a few skinned knuckles that hurt," said Cal, showing the bruises.

"Who did you hit?" asked Lange. "Fisticuffs isn't exactly your style, Cal."

"I know. But I was angry."

Lange inspected Cal's frame. "Wouldn't like to be the other guy," he laughed. "But look, Cal. Tinker will be more than pleased."

"That I was fighting? Why?"

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