The Golden Gizmo

might attract attention, and what if he should have to leave town in a hurry? So, unobtrusively, he had had a small but excellent safe sunk into the floor beneath his workbench. It could be cracked, of course, as the best of safes can be. But what knob-knocker or juice worker or torch artist would suspect that Milt had anything worth getting?

None did. The idea was laughable. Milt used to laugh, smile a little sadly to himself, as late at night sometimes he examined the stacks upon stacks of large-denomination bills. So much money… for what?

So he had gone on, reasonlessly, because there was nothing else to do, and fate in time had brought Toddy and Elaine Kent to him. Elaine! There was someone like himself, a woman who thought as he did. With someone like her, with her and the money, life would at last be what it should. And why not have her? It was only a question of ridding her of her fool husband, and if she kept on drinking, making trouble-and if that was not enough, if Toddy would not leave her or permit her to leave.

Night after night Milt had brooded over the matter; cursing, thinking in circles, guzzling quart after quart of beer. And, finally, Toddy had stumbled upon the house of the talking dog; and from then on thinking almost ceased to be necessary. Every piece of the puzzle had fallen into place at the touch of Milt's stubby fingers.

True, there had been one slight hitch, a hair-raising moment when all seemed lost. But that was past, now. Nothing remained but the pay-off. There was no longer danger-or very little. Things had not worked out quite as he had planned, but still they had worked out.

The phone rang. Milt answered it, casually, then grinned with malicious pleasure:

'Yes, I did that, Seсor. Something you should have done yourself… Why? Because he was dangerous, a menace to us. At least that was my honest opinion. I have not acted out of venom-as our superiors will most certainly feel that you have… Eh? Oh, you are mistaken, mein Herr. You have but to consult your morning paper-The News. The others did not see fit to carry the item. And if that is not enough for you…

'If you demand stronger proof'-Milt's voice dropped to a wicked caress-'pay me a visit.'

18

A chilling, icy, weight enveloped Toddy's head. He tried to move away from it, but couldn't. It kept moving with him. From far away, in a dim fog-muted world, came the sound of voices… A man and a woman, talking, or a woman and two men. The voices came closer, some of them, then lapsed into silence. Something squeezed his left wrist, released it, and regrasped his right arm. The arm moved upward, and a probe dug painfully at the flesh. Then, fire flooded his veins and his heart gave a great bound, and Toddy bounded with it.

Eyes closed, he bounded, staggered, to his feet, and the icy weight clattered from his head. Then he was pressed back, prone, on the bed; and he opened his eyes.

A dark, neatly dressed man was staring down at him thoughtfully, slapping a hypodermic needle against the palm of his hand. Also gazing down at him, her dark eyes anxious, was the girl Dolores.

'It's all right, Toddy.' She gave him a tremulous smile. Toddy stared at her, unwinking, remembrance returning; then, swung his eyes toward the man with the needle.

'You a doctor?'

'Yes, Seсor.'

'What's going on here? What happened?'

'I have given you an injection of nicotinic acid. To strengthen the heart. Lie still for another half hour, and keep in place the ice pack. You will be all right.'

'I asked you what happened?'

The doctor smiled faintly, shrugged, and spoke rapidly in Spanish to Dolores. Toddy's eyes drooped shut for a moment, and when he reopened them he was alone with Dolores.

'Well?' he said. 'Well…?'

'You should not talk, Toddy.' She sat down on a chair at the bedside, and laid a hand on his forehead. 'There is little I can explain, and-'

Toddy rolled his head from beneath her hand. 'That guy tried to kill me?'

'To knock you unconscious. You were to be disposed of later… at night.'

'Why?'

'I cannot tell you. There is much I do not understand.'

'You know, all right. Why did Alvarado want me killed?'

'Alvarado did not want you killed.'

'No? Then why-'

'If he had,' said the girl, 'you would be dead.'

Toddy frowned, then grunted as a stab of pain shot through his head. 'Yeah,' he said. 'But…'

'Try not to think for a few minutes. Rest, and I will make you some coffee, and then, if you feel able, we can leave.'

'Leave?'

'Rest,' said Dolores firmly.

Toddy rested, more willingly than he pretended to. It was almost reluctantly that, some fifteen or twenty minutes later, he sat up to accept the coffee Dolores prepared. She gave him a lighted cigarette, and he puffed and drank alternately. His head still throbbed with pain, but he felt alert again.

'So,' he said, setting down the cup, 'Alvarado doesn't want me dead?'

'Obviously not.'

'He knew this was going to happen?'

'I think-I think he must have.'

'What did he stand to gain by it?'

'I cannot say. I mean, I don't know.'

'No?'

'No!' snapped the girl; but her voice immediately became soft again. 'Believe me, Toddy, I don't know. But you will soon find out. Alvarado himself will tell you.'

'Alvarado will!' Toddy started. 'What do you mean?'

'That is why I am here, to take you to him. He is in San Diego.'

Toddy fumbled for and found his cigarettes. He lighted one, staring at Dolores over the flame of the match. He didn't know whether to laugh or bop her. How stupid, he wondered, did they think he was?

'What's Alvarado doing in San Diego?'

'Again, I do not know.'

'But after this pasting I got, I'm still supposed to see him?'

'So I told you.'

'What if I refuse to go with you? What happens, then?'

'What happens?' The girl shrugged, tiredly. 'Nothing happens. You are free to go your own way. You may leave here now, if you feel able.'

Toddy shook his head, incredulously. 'You say that like you mean it.'

'I do. You will not be harmed… Of course,' she added, 'your situation will not be exactly pleasant. You have little money. You are a fugitive. You are in a foreign country…'

'But I'm alive.'

'There is no use,' said Dolores, 'in arguing. I was not ordered to persuade you, only to ask you.'

She stood up, walked to the battered dresser, and picked up a flowered scarf. Draping it over her