“No, 99-that was a shriek of pain,” Max said. “One of the little beggars bit me!”
“Wonderful, Max!”
“Yes, I suppose it is-depending, of course, on how you mean that.”
“I mean that’s all the evidence we need. Now we know that Wai is X.”
“99, couldn’t you put that another way?”
“All right. It means that Herbert Wai is really the diabolical Dr. X.”
“That’s better. The other way, it was a bit too much for even me to believe.” He closed the locker door, removed the key, and put it in his pocket. “Now,” he said, “we’ll confront the diabolical Dr. X with our knowledge of his true identity, and-”
“And what, Max?”
“-and see how the ball bounces,” Max replied. “Frankly, I’m not sure what we’ll do. Legally, Dr. X has every right to sell his formula to the highest bidder-even if that bidder is KAOS. We’ll just have to play it by ear.”
“You’ll think of something, Max,” 99 said. “I know you will.”
“I’m sure I will,” Max said. “The question is-will it work?” He shrugged. “Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Let’s go.”
Max led the way, and 99 and Fang followed close behind. They left the lounge, hurried down a stairway, and emerged on deck. Max increased the pace, and 99 and Fang trotted to keep up. A moment later, they entered the ballroom, and edged their way across the dance floor, dodging in and out between the couples. When they reached the other side of the ballroom, they stepped out on deck again. Once more, Max increased the pace. 99 and Fang ran to stay near him. They climbed a stairway, then entered a corridor. At the end of the corridor, they came upon another stairway, and headed downward.
“Are we getting close, Max?” 99 panted.
“I haven’t the faintest idea, 99,” Max replied. “Don’t you remember? We don’t know where Wai’s stateroom is.”
“Max… then… why are we running?”
“We haven’t got all night, 99. We have to find Wai-or X, as the case may be-get that formula from him, and get back to our cell before that waiter comes to.”
“Max… wouldn’t it be easier… if we found out where Wai’s stateroom is?”
Max halted. “Sorry,” he said. “Sometimes I get carried away.”
“Max, as the tour director, he wouldn’t be on the passenger list, but there must be a staff list,” 99 said. “If we could get hold of it, we could find out which stateroom Wai is occupying.”
“Wait a minute, 99-I have an idea. There must be a staff list. If we could just get hold of it, we could find out which stateroom Dr. X is occupying.”
“Max… that’s what I just said.”
“No, you said ‘Wai’. I said ‘Dr. X’. There’s a difference, 99.”
“Rorff!”
“It’s a subtle difference. I wouldn’t expect you to be able to see it. But,” he said graciously, “I won’t argue the point. We’ll just say that we both got the same idea at the same time.”
“All right, Max, I’ll accept that,” 99 said. “Now, what shall we do about it?”
“We’ll get the staff list,” Max replied. “Let’s see, who would have a copy of it? The Captain, I suppose. Yes- that’s what we’ll do. We’ll go to the Captain’s cabin, and Fang will go in and ask him for a copy of the staff list.”
“Won’t he think that’s a little odd, Max?”
“Of course not. He won’t recognize Fang. He’ll remember him as a sheepdog. And Fang is now a Mexican Hairless.”
“Then it may work,” 99 agreed.
“It’s a cinch-the flawless plan,” Max said. “Let’s go.”
They turned around and walked back up the stairway, then entered the corridor and hurried toward the end. But, when they were halfway along the way, a party of ship’s officers suddenly appeared at the end of the corridor.
“There they are-Stop!” the leader shouted.
“Max! They mean us!” 99 cried.
“Yes-look! That waiter we left in our cell! He’s with them!”
“They know we escaped!” 99 said.
“About face! Run for it!” Max shouted.
The three whipped around and raced back along the corridor.
Behind them, the posse took up pursuit.
“Stop! Halt!”
Max, Fang and 99 reached the end of the corridor, turned, and plunged down the stairway.
99 looked back. “Max! They’re gaining!”
“Faster!” Max urged.
“Max, we’re right behind you. Hurry!”
“I’m going as fast as I can. You try leading an escape sometime with a telephone in your shoe!”
“Sorry, Max. I know you’re doing your best.”
The trio, Max still in the lead, raced out onto the deck.
“This way!” Max cried, charging forward.
Behind them, the posse appeared on deck.
“Stop! Halt!”
“I wish they’d find something different to shout,” Max complained. “Stop! Halt! Always the same old thing!”
From behind came the cry, “De-accelerate!”
“Thanks!” Max called back.
“Max-there’s the ballroom!” 99 said. “Maybe we could hide in there.”
“Quick! There’s the ballroom!” Max said. “We’ll try to lose ourselves among the dancers!”
They plunged into the ballroom.
“Grab a partner!” Max commanded.
99 threw herself into the arms of a middle-aged man who, alone, was shaking and shivering from head to toe, wholly absorbed in his own personal version of the watusi.
“Go away!” he grumbled. “I’m dancing!”
“I’m your partner,” 99 said.
“What do I want with a partner-I’m dancing!”
99 joined him, nevertheless, a few feet away.
Meanwhile, Max glided into a waltz with the nearest available soloist. “Haven’t we met before?” he said, peering closely at his partner.
“Rorff!”
“Fang! I didn’t recognize you on your hind legs!”
“Rorff!”
“Sorry about that,” Max said, looking down. “Which toe was it?”
At that moment, the posse charged into the ballroom. It stopped, and the officers began inspecting the dancers, looking for Max, 99 and Fang.
“Cheek-to-cheek, Fang,” Max ordered. “That way, we’ll hide our faces.”
“Rorff!”
“My excuse is that I haven’t had a chance to shave. What’s your excuse?”
“Max!” 99 whispered, watusi-ing up. “They’re coming this way!”
“Drat! I was sure we’d blend in with the other dancers.”
“They’re closing-in, Max!”
“All right-we’ll show them a fancy step I learned from Rex Astaire.”
“Fred Astaire, Max.”
“Rex Astaire. He won the hundred-yard-dash at Muskogee, Oklahoma, High School in 1932.”
