that he had placed on the table. “In here, 99, I have three white coats with the words Acme Air-Conditioning Repair stenciled on the backs. We will enter the staterooms posing as air conditioning repairmen-or, to be more exact, as an air conditioning repair man, and air conditioning repair girl, and an air conditioning repair dog.”
“But, Max,” 99 pointed out, “this ship isn’t air conditioned. The sea breezes keep it cool.”
“99, you underestimate Research and Development,” Max said. “Also in this package is a collapsible air- conditioner. And, not only that-it’s out-of-order!”
“You mean we provide our own malfunctioning air-conditioner?”
“Right. And, according to the instructions on the tag, it is absolutely impossible to get this machine to work. That means that we can take all the time we want to trying to repair it-it will never operate. Meanwhile, of course, we will be doing a little snooping.”
“I just hope it works, Max,” 99 said doubtfully.
“You mean you hope it doesn’t work,” Max corrected. “If it works, we’re sunk.”
“Rorff!”
“Fang is finished with his coffee,” Max said. “Let’s go.”
They left the dining room, then went out on deck and found a secluded corner. Max opened the package. It contained three white coats-one dog-sized-and a tiny tin box. After each had put on a coat, Max inspected the metal box.
“The tag said there was a button here to punch,” he muttered. “Let’s see… button, button, who’s got the-”
The tin box suddenly popped open, becoming an air-conditioner the size of a breadbox.
“There we are,” Max said. “Now, where do we go from here?”
“Stateroom B-19,” 99 replied. “Dr. Ignatz Popartsky.”
They reached B Deck a few minutes later, and proceeded along the corridor until they reached B-19. Max rapped on the door.
“Who?” a voice called from inside.
“Air-conditioning repairman-also girl and dog,” Max responded.
“Come.”
Max opened the door. A large black-bearded man with a slinky, sneaky expression was seated at a desk. He was writing and did not look up.
“So far, so good,” Max whipered to 99. “There’s the beard. And with that slinky, sneaky expression, he’s bound to have a slinky, sneaky manner. If he has a foreign accent, this may be it!”
Ignatz Popartsky raised his head-and beamed. “What’s up, cats?” he said.
Max’s face fell. “Wrong stateroom,” he said. “We were looking for a foreign accent.”
Popartsky’s grin broadened. “Yeah, man, you got the wrong hidey-hole,” he said. “The king’s English is all the jazz you gonna heah ’round heah. Dig?”
“Dug,” Max nodded, backing out. He closed the door. “Next?” he said to 99.
“That would be Dr. Halmar Halmar,” she answered.
“99, you’re repeating yourself.”
“No, that’s his name, Max. Dr. Halmar Halmar.”
“His parents must have stuttered,” Max said. “All right, let’s go. Where is he?”
“Right down the corridor, Max. Stateroom B-31.”
Max led the way. Reaching the door of Stateroom B-31, he knocked on it. A second later, the door opened. A large man with a close-cropped black beard stood in the opening.
“Vot is?” he asked.
“Ahhh, now we’re getting somewhere,” Max smiled. “Dr. Halmar Halmar?”
“Yes?”
“We’re here to repair your air-conditioner,” Max said. He turned his back to Dr. Halmar Halmar. “See? Right there across the shoulders of the coat-Acme Air-Conditioning Repair.”
Dr. Halmar Halmar looked puzzled. “I am having no air-conditioner,” he said.
“Of course not,” Max said, facing him again. “I have it right here. What good would it do you to have an air- conditioner that doesn’t work? Now, if you’ll just step back and let us in…”
Dr. Halmar Halmar, still puzzled, stepped back. Max, 99 and Fang trooped in.
Dr. Halmar Halmar stared at Fang. “Dot dog is air-conditioning repairman?”
Max chuckled. “That would be pretty silly, wouldn’t it?” he said. “Of course he’s not an air-conditioning repairman. He’s an air-conditioning repair dog. ”
Dr. Halmar Halmar nodded dimly. “Oh.”
“Let’s see now, where would you like this installed?” Max said. “In… uh, one of your empty suitcases, perhaps?”
“Vot I vant vis air-conditioner in suitcase?”
Max’s eyes narrowed. “To keep your invisible guinea pigs cool, maybe?”
Dr. Halmar Halmar stared at Max for almost a full minute. Then he smiled feebly, said, “Haxcuse me,” and left the stateroom.
“99, this is it!” Max said exultantly. “Did you see what happened? One mention of invisible guinea pigs and he turned tail. It’s my guess that Dr. Halmar Halmar is, in fact, the diabolical Dr. X X.”
“But why did he leave, Max?”
“He probably thinks he can escape. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s out there on deck right now trying to lower a lifeboat.”
“Shouldn’t we try to stop him?”
“First, the evidence,” Max said. “Let’s find that suitcase that contains the six invisible guinea pigs.” He put down the air-conditioner. “You try the closets, 99. I’ll look under the bunk.”
99 hurried to the closet.
Max kneeled and peered under the bunk. “Something under there,” he said, squinting. “I’ll just squeeze under and…”
A few moments later, 99 called, “Max..
“Yes?” he answered from under the bunk.
“Max… you better come out.”
Max’s head appeared. “What is it…?”
At that moment, he saw Dr. Halmar Halmar and a steward in the doorway. It was the same steward that had caught them in Dr, Zee’s stateroom.
Max glared at the steward. “I have a complaint,” he said.
“Yes, sir?”
“Don’t you people ever dust under any of your bunks?” Max complained., “There’s a clod of dust under here that’s big enough to pass for a suitcase.”
“Vot you doink in mine staderoom?” Dr. Halmar Halmar said.
Max looked up at 99. “We can leave now,” he said. “This is where we came in.”
“If you don’t mind, sir,” the steward said, as Max crawled out from under the bunk, “I think an explanation is in order.”
“And, you shall have it,” Max replied. ‘You see, in addition to being ordinary passengers, we are also qualified air-conditioning repairmen-ah… man, girl and dog, actually. So, whenever we hear of an air-conditioner being on the blink, we lend a hand.”
“There are no air-conditioners on board, sir.”
Max pointed. “Then what is that?”
The steward bent down and peered at the air-conditioner. “I beg your pardon,” he said.
“You accept our explanation, then?”
The steward frowned. “You say it’s out-of-order?”
“I guarantee it,” Max said.
The steward reached down and turned on the ON switch. A blast of cool air roared from the machine.
“Of course, that wasn’t an unconditional guarantee,” Max said. “Every once in a while this sort of thing happens-you get an air-conditioner that works. At the factory, we refer to this type as a ‘lemon’.”
