Welcome

BACKGROUND

THE SPRUCE VALLEY MIRACLE is earth-bound science fiction. In it, a highly ethical doctor discovers a way to restore old people to the physical condition they had in their thirties.

Is this a good thing? Well, sure, it would be fine for you and me, but how many of the rest of the world's people would we want to join us in immortality? If immortality were to begin in a massive way over a span of a few years, the social disruptions could be severe. Not to mention that there are a few dirty birds, the likes of Adolph Schicklgruber (Hitler) and Joseph Djugashvili (Stalin) that one would not wish to make immortal.

The good doctor conceives a fountain of youth hoax akin to the Miracle of Lourdes so that God is given the credit (and the blame) for the miracle. This allows him to expose the world to his new marvel in a small way so that civilization has time to adjust to it.

I completed this novel in 1983, then began submitting it to the eagerly awaiting publishing world. I kept track of the rejections until the count passed 120. Did you know that there are 120 publishers? Well, actually, there are (or were) more than that. I quit counting, but kept submitting into the spring of 1999. Some people say I'm stubborn. I say I'm persistent. (Actually, I'm far more patient now than was once the case, as proven by the fact that The Dragonslayers only had 12 rejections before I settled for self-publishing.) The thing is that The Spruce Valley Miracle is a book with a message. The eternal youth at the core of this novel is happening. It's happening slowly, like global warming, but it's happening. Science is learning what governs the life of individual cells and will find a way to stop or reset our biological clocks. And science is an irresistible force. Even when church and state forced Galileo to drop his foolish insistence that the sun did not revolve around the earth, the earth did, in fact, continue to revolve about the sun. We need to think about the consequences of immortality. It's a probability, not a possibility.

It happens to be a mildly humorous novel too.

Chapter 8 is deleted below and Chapter 9 is presented with the intention that the entire novel will be presented, one chapter at a time. However, this is going rather slowly and a high percentage of the multitude reading this may have no idea what was in the first eight chapters, so a synopsis precedes Chapter 9. You may print out one copy if you choose, but the material is protected by copyright and multiple copies or distribution is expressly forbidden.

THE SPRUCE VALLEY MIRACLE - SYNOPSIS

Chapter 1 - The Doctor's Game - Theodore Thorndike, head of The Thorndyke Corporation, an operator of rest homes for the aged, has hired Dr. Earnest Visionaire as head of his Spruce Valley facility near Saratoga, NY. Dr. Visionaire is really too perfect, so Mr. Thorndyke, a veteran of WW II, keeps asking himself, "What's wrong with this picture?" Then an 81-year old resident becomes pregnant and Theodore suddenly realizes that he hasn't seen any old residents at the Spruce Valley facility.

Chapter 2 - Pandora's Box - Confronted with the evidence, Dr. Visionaire admits that he has discovered a way to turn back the human biological clock, making old folks young again, just as he has restored his own youth. Mr. Thorndyke accepts that there are good reasons to allow the residents to continue in their belief that the spring water at Spruce Valley has rejuvenating powers. Later, Theodore realizes that there is a major downside to the whole thing and correctly identifies it as a Pandora's Box.

Chapter 3 - Project Creeper - Seeking to solidify the belief that the Spruce Valley water is a fountain of youth, Dr. Visionaire, Mr. Thorndyke, and Ellie, Mr Thorndyke's wife, set up a hoax. Dr. Visionaire, disguised as The Virgin Mary, will go through a service tunnel to the Spruce Valley spring house, where one of the residents will see her as a vision.

Chapter 4 - A Pair Of Miracles - The three conspirators set their plan in motion. It works, but due to a fluke in timing, the wrong resident sees the vision. Miss Winterborn, single, pregnant, and unrepentant, views the miraculous vision of Mary at the springhouse. The three conspirators go ahead with a second vision of Mary with Mrs. Thorndyke disguised as Mary, and, again, Miss Winterborn blunders in and appears to be chosen by Mary. A newspaper reporter related to one of the residents breaks the story in his dinky paper.

Chapter 5 - The Spotlight - The story grows to national prominence. Miss Winterborn loves being a celebrity, while the three conspirators cringe at the news overkill. Dr. Visionaire pretends ignorance and scepticism.

Chapter 6 - New Residents & Old - Applications for admission to Spruce Valley explode. Even with a new addition being built, there isn't nearly enough space. Dr. Visionaire tries to choose the most 'worthy' applicants, until Theodore tells him he can't do that without exposing their hoax as a hoax. So the good doctor concentrates on moving the rejuvenated residents out to make room for new residents. The most stubborn resident is Miss Winterborn, who enjoys her star role too much to leave. Then Ellie Thorndyke lends a hand and Miss Winterborn decides to leave one snowy evening with the baby's father, Mr. Black. Fate strikes again as the baby arrives while their car is stuck in a snowdrift. Taking refuge in a barn, baby Christofer is born on Christmas Eve and placed in a manger. The press loves it and the three conspirators philosophize over a bottle of wine.

Chapter 7 - Ms. Ormond & Uncle Sam - Baby Christofer's birth attracts world wide attention. Soon, Ms. Ormond, representing the U.S. government, arrives on the scene, requesting space at Spruce Valley for foreign V.I.P. residents and offering irresistible financial terms for the expansion of the Spruce Valley facility. Dr. Visionaire reluctantly and tentatively agrees to the new situation. He also finds Ms. Ormond incredibly attractive and a tentative romance begins.

Chapter 8 - Growing Pains - The rapid changes at Spruce Valley leave Dr. Visionaire swamped in details. Jane Ormond recommends an administrator, Henry Boggle, with in-depth experience in dealing with Government officials and paperwork. Dr. Visionaire meets and hires Henry Boggle, who tackles the job vigorously, proving what Dr. Visionaire already knew; the new people on the job would make it more difficult to guard the secrets of Spruce Valley. And a new complication arises; Ellie Thorndyke is pregnant.

THE SPRUCE VALLEY MIRACLE - Chapter 9 - CARL KLUCK

Ellie's pregnancy was not well timed. Earnie had counseled Theodore and Ellie against precisely such a bungle of love, but a fat lot of good it had done. It would create bad public relations if attention were drawn to the fact that the owner of Spruce Valley and his wife were beneficiaries of the miracle at a time when many people in dire condition were being denied admission due to lack of space. Never mind that Theodore and Ellie had made possible the rapid expansion of Spruce Valley. In such a sensitive atmosphere, the facts could be badly bent out of shape in the hands of the less responsible members of the press.

So, rather than tough it out, Ellie quietly returned home to Atlanta. The news of Ellie's pregnancy was not to become news. Theodore, thus orphaned, regularly joined Earnie and Jane for breakfast, lunch, and diner in the cafeteria. And even when Earnie and Jane went out to diner, Theodore was often invited along. Jane Ormond, who had arrived at Spruce Valley with all of her allegiance owed to Washington, found herself drawn ever more tightly into the Spruce Valley orbit. She could see the workings of the Spruce Valley Miracle in Theodore, and knew that he was growing younger, but his manner of speaking kept a fatherly quality. She saw him as a wise and kindly man, as trustworthy as Santa Claus.

She hadn't entirely made up her mind about Earnie. As a platonic friend he was a good friend and likeable enough. So why hadn't it gone further? Was he gay or simply on the defensive? She had encountered plenty of male egos that couldn't relate to a woman as an equal, but her instincts told her that wasn't the answer. And the answer might be worth waiting for.

Meanwhile, given her trust of Theodore and a feeling that her relationship with Earnie was fragile, it was Theodore she approached with the problem of Mr. Kluck. Perhaps Theodore would know how to present it to Earnie. And Theodore, gentleman of the old school that he was, agreed to handle the problem. "It's a very awkward predicament," he said. "Earnie won't like it at all. You must allow me time to think about it before I approach him."

It was a somber task Theodore had agreed to and Earnie sensed something amiss as soon as they met for lunch.

It was a bright, sunny day in April. Patches of snow gleamed white in recesses and hollows where it had drifted deep and had little or no exposure to the sun. But there were abundant signs of spring, too. There were crocuses in bloom, tulips and daffodils were showing their leaves, and the golden branches of weeping willows would soon be in leaf.

A man should be bubbling over with spring on such a day, full of new hope and fresh ideas. But that was definitely not the case with Theodore. He was a man lost in thought, burdened with melancholy visions of some kind.

"Feeling a bit lost without Ellie?" Earnie sympathized.

"Yes, constantly, Old Chap," Theodore admitted. "I could do with a bit of her advice at the moment."

"Maybe I can help?" Earnie suggested.

"No thanks, Old Chap," Theodore said, forcing a smile. "Quite inappropriate, this time. Just let a man retreat into the solitude of his own mind for a moment, won't you? Where would we be if Einstein and Leonardo Da Vinci hadn't been allowed the privacy of their own thoughts?"

"Wow! Heavy stuff, eh?" Earnie said. "Okay, Jane and I are going to ignore you until you come out of your shell. Just let us know when you're ready, won't you?"

"Yes, of course, Earnest," Theodore answered, sinking back into his own thoughts. And, for Earnie, that wasn't much better, since Jane seemed to have the same malaise. Puzzled as he was, Earnie let it ride. It might, after all, be something he really wouldn't want to know about.

As a man of great age, and as a doctor, Earnie had learned that most people can handle the problems that come their way. But those who reach out to grasp more than their fair share of the world's problems may be overwhelmed or may simply find themselves incompetent. War veterans often summed it up very simply for rookies: "Don't volunteer for a damned thing!"

It was an hour or so after lunch when Theodore entered Earnie's office and sat himself and his mental burden down opposite the doctor.

"Ready to come out of our shell are we?" Earnie asked with a smile.

"It's an unpleasant thing, this," Theodore began. "You won't like it any more than I do. Considerably less, I expect."

"That bad, eh?" Earnie prompted.

Theodore nodded. "The thing is, Jane has a new resident for us. A Mr. Carl Kluck."

"Oh? Well, she must have given it some careful thought. I told her that I could only accept three more of her VIPs until the new building is ready."

"It appears that she had no choice in this selection. The man is her boss."

"Sounds like a bummer, all right. But you haven't told me the worst of it yet, have you?"

"It's a double whammy, as you might say. He isn't of VIP rank according to State Department Standards, and he's only 49 years old."

"What!" Earnie yelped, bouncing out of his chair. "Of all the gall! No way! We've got an endless line of old-timers to snatch back from the brink and this grass-green bastard expects us to make way for him? No way!"

Theodore winced, shifted uneasily in his seat and cleared his throat. "I feel the same way and I assure you that Jane does too. However, this man, as you've expressed it yourself, is a bastard. A powerful bastard. He can and will make life sadistically miserable for us if we refuse."

"He'll just have to do that then, because I refuse!"

"Actually, Ms. Ormond expected that. That's why she approached me. She sees you as a young spirit, idealistic, and untamed while I'm older, somewhat resigned to the necessary injustices of the world and, sad to say, trained to jump through the hoop when the alternative is harsh enough."

"What, exactly and concisely, are you saying?" the doctor asked.

"I told Ms. Ormond that we would accept Mr. Kluck," Theodore said, in a voice that conveyed firmness as well as disgust.

"Our agreement was that I would have the final say on all admissions. That means nothing, does it?" the doctor demanded.

Theodore clenched his teeth and stared grimly at Earnie, then asked, "Must I choose between a business I've put forty years into and a friend I value only slightly less than Ellie, who I couldn't live without?" Earnie returned the grim stare for a moment, then turned and walked to a window with his back to Theodore. He closed his eyes and waited for his anger to burn out. Anger would solve nothing, he told himself. Finally he returned to face Theodore.

"Well, dammit," he said, "we knew from the start that we'd get stuck with some bad guys, didn't we? And aren't you the one who told me we'd have to let a few stinkers in so there would be some the miracle could pass over cheerfully? Anyway, we'll lose by default if we don't stick together. Let's get Mr. Kluck in here and see what kind of job we can do on him!"

"No hard feelings?" Theodore asked in obvious great relief.

"Against my best and dearest friends?" Earnie asked.

"You must think me and awful coward, Earnest," Theodore said, the words tumbling out. "Lord knows, I think that of myself, knuckling under without a fight to some God-awful bastard I've never even met!"

"Not at all," Earnie reassured him. "You've probably instinctively done the right thing. This way we can choose the time and place to do battle. Our day will come, Theodore! Our day will come!"

Ms. Ormond delivered Mr. Kluck on Friday of that week; a date that Earnie found easy enough to remember because it was Friday the thirteenth. After the initial greetings, Earnie turned Mr. Kluck over to Miss Hanscomb, the head nurse, and continued on his rounds. He had no appetite for the routine civilities where Mr. Kluck was concerned.

Ms. Ormond caught up to Earnie in a hallway a short time later. "Can we talk, Doctor?" she asked.

"What's new since lunchtime?" he asked.

"We haven't really been talking since this Kluck thing came up, Earnie," she said. "We've got to talk it out."

"I'm just a bit ticked," Earnie said. "Leave it lie and it'll pass."

"Not really, it won't," Jane insisted. "You've got to understand that it had to be this way. I couldn't block Kluck."

"Did you try?"

"Earnie, let me tell you one thing; that man is a cobra. He can appear to be as civilized as a diplomat, but he loves to bully defenseless people and he will do absolutely anything to get his way. He has more real power inside and outside the law than you could ever suspect. Don't cross him unless you're willing to risk everything you value."

"There's a fatal flaw in your reasoning," Earnie answered. "Maybe that man's supposed power exists only because nobody dares challenge it. Like the late, great, Senator Joseph McCarthy in the fifties or Mr. Schickelgruber in the thirties. Tolerate people like that and they just keep going until they become intolerable and a world of cowards finally has to fight back because on other choice is left!"

"Unto all things there is a time and a season, Earnie," Jane said. "Those who join the fight too soon are known as victims and martyrs. Those with better timing are known as avengers.

"Frankly, honestly, sincerely; I don't want you numbered among the victims."

"Thanks for all that," Earnie said, "but, if I can find a way to play mongoose to his cobra, I'm going to register a protest he'll feel!"

But brave words and brave deeds are two different things. By the time Earnie met again with Mr. Kluck, Jane Ormond's advice had sunk in and seemed to pass as good advice. Especially the part about choosing the time and place to do battle. Hadn't he said as much himself to Theodore?

"Don't you do a physical check on new arrivals, Doctor?" Mr. Kluck asked.

"Sure do," Earnie answered, summoning up the warm smile he'd have given any other resident, "Generally on the second day, though, unless initial checks on pulse, temperature and blood pressure show a problem. We try to keep an easy-going atmosphere."

"I see," Mr. Kluck answered, "Now, who do I see about phone service and office space?"

Mr. Boggle is our expediter for those things," Earnie answered. "Henry Boggle. I'll have him get in touch with you this afternoon."

"Henry Boggle? I knew a Henry Boggle in Washington," Mr. Kluck said. "Could it be the same man?"

"Quite possible," Earnie said. "That's where we recruited him from."

"Aha! Well! You'll send him up right away will you?"

"Sure! I'll send him right up," Earnie agreed, still cheerful by all outward appearances.

"And don't mention my name, will you? Just give him the room number. I'd like to surprise him."

Earnie nodded and left, thoroughly grateful at having Henry Boggle on the scene. Yessir! Let Henry Boggle deal with this cowbird, Kluck!

Earnie headed straight for Henry's office, but not as a matter of pleasing Mr. Kluck. It just seemed that Henry might know something worth knowing about Mr. Kluck.

"Henry, my friend," Earnie began, "do you know a Washingtonian named Carl Kluck?"

"Well enough to wish I didn't," Henry answered.

"I know what you mean," Earnie said. "He's in room 204 as a resident."

"There goes the neighborhood!" Henry said, forcing a weak smile.

"I told him I'd send you right up to arrange for whatever he needs. I believe it's phone service and office space he wants. Act surprised when you see him. He asked me not to give you his name. Said he wanted to surprise you."

"Shock is the word," Henry said. "He enjoys shocking people."

"I've heard some bad things about him," Earnie said. "Most likely exaggerated."

"Did you invite him here?" Henry asked.

"Not exactly," Earnie admitted.

"Sort of forced his way in, didn't he?"

"Sort of," Earnie nodded.

"Par for the course," Henry advised. "That's his style. Anything bad you've heard about him is most likely true."

"How do you fight a guy like that?" Earnie asked.

"Obliquely. Passive resistance. Wear him down. Side-track him."

"Uh-huh. Like, how?"

"Like that thing back in the fifties between Senator McCarthy and the Secretary of the Army. The Eisenhower administration used the secretary as a cat's paw. It put the real Senator McCarthy on public display long enough to destroy his credibility. A beautifully classic tactic, don't you think?"

Earnie smiled his Dr. Visionaire smile. "You know, Henry," he said, "I like the way you think. Maybe there is a way to hang Mr. Kluck out to dry!"

"I expect there is," Henry agreed, "but don't be careless. It's a very serious business, dealing with Carl Kluck."

"You seem to have survived him well enough," Earnie said.

"I have a number of very well-placed friends and I know where a few of Mr. Kluck's bodies are buried," Henry said. "It gives him a certain respect for me."

"So you can threaten him with a certain amount of retaliation if he gives you a bad time?"

"Oh, no, no, no!" Henry answered in obvious consternation that Earnie could be so naive. "Look, it's like Switzerland and Nazi Germany. Switzerland made it obvious that she could only be conquered at a terrible price. If she had threatened Nazi Germany, Hitler might have decided to pay that price. But she didn't threaten. You see?"

"Okay," Earnie nodded thoughtfully. "I think I've got it. Remember to act surprised when you meet Mr. Kluck."

"I'll send Jerome up first," Henry said. "Room 204, is it?"

"Yes. But he specifically asked for you."

"But I don't know who's doing the asking, do I? So he can't kick too badly when he gets Jerome."

"Part of the passive resistance thing?"

"Just a little something to louse up his day."

"Good luck," Earnie said. "I'll see what I can do too."

Earnie went back to his office to ponder an idea Henry had given him. It was a simple enough plan. Use that young reporter from the Battlefield Weekly, Gary Allen, as his cat's paw. Try to get the kid to publish an expose of a Government bureaucrat taking up space that ought to go to someone in real need. With a bit of luck, the public reaction would force Kluck out and he'd never know who had set him up.

No matter which way he turned the idea, Earnie still liked it. And it really ought to be done promptly, before Kluck could size people up or get his roots down. Earnie locked his door, slipped on a pair of surgical gloves, took a piece of Spruce Valley stationery from the middle of a stack, and printed the note left-handed. "Mr. Gary Allen, Editor The Battlefield Weekly Saratoga, N.Y. 12866

"Dear Mr. Allen, I may be old, but I'm not senile. I know a piece of hanky-panky when I see it. Folks up here tell us they're playing fair in choosing who's to come to Spruce Valley and who can't come. If that's the case, then how's come some young Government na-bob is roosting in Room 204? It just don't seem right. Maybe you can let folks know what's going on up here.

Concerned Resident"

Earnie read it over several times, then fished out a small envelope, folded the note carefully, put it in the envelope, addressed it, and stamped it, using bottled water for the seal and stamp to rule out any possible DNA trace. Tomorrow he would drop it in the outgoing mail along with several others the residents would ask him to mail for them during the day.

It was done. He shucked off the surgical gloves and unlocked his door.

Two days later, Earnie got a call from the guard at the front gate. "Dr. Visionaire, Sir, there's a Mr. Gary Allen here who says he's a reporter from the Battlefield Weekly down in Saratoga. Do I let him in?"

"Gary Allen? What a persistent cuss! I thought he'd written five times as much as could ever be written about Spruce Valley! Sure, let him in!"

Later that morning, Earnie met Mr. Allen in the hallway. "Where's Ellie Thorndyke?" Gary asked.

"Ah! One of your favorite tour guides! She went home to Atlanta! Don't you know your way around here by now?"

"Quite a few new faces!" Gary said. "And you're building like crazy! I feel lost! How do you see it? Is the miracle still working?"

Dr. Visionaire scratched his head. "Yes. That's the crazy part. It's still working, whatever it is. Quite a few patients seem to be getting younger."

"And you still don't have a scientific answer for it?"

"Can't say that I have. Some of it may be a placebo effect. The human body does have some remarkable resources. Many people get well or ill, according to what they believe is going to happen to them."

"That's as close as you've come yet to putting it in a spiritual context, Doctor," Gary said, clapping him on the back.

"Whoa! Back off a minute! I'm not calling it miraculous! I'm only saying that the resources of the human body aren't fully understood yet."

"Okay. Nothing new on your views there, eh? What can you tell me, then, about Government patients? I hear you've got a few here."

"Oh, yes! A few now and more to come," Earnie answered. "It seems our State Department got a lot of foreign inquiries. Many more prospective residents than we had room for. But it was a very sensitive thing, diplomatically speaking, so Washington is underwriting the new building which you've probably seen under construction."

"Right! Hard to miss!" Gary agreed. "But I had one particular patient in mind. What's the name of the guy in room 204?"

Earnie turned sharply to stare at Gary in his best pantomine of surprise. "Well, uh, I can't discuss particular patients," he said. "That would be an invasion of privacy."

"Carl Kluck. That's his name isn't it?"

"Well, yes, I suppose it is," Earnie agreed.

"Young fellow, isn't he?"

"Sort of middle-aged."

"Why is he here? How does a young guy like that get in while old people are being turned away?"

Earnie smiled. "It's a very complex thing, Gary," he said. "Why don't you just leave it lie? There's so much other stuff here you could write about- "

"The more evasive you get, the more curious I'll get," Gary warned. "After all, there's got to be something very special about Mr. Kluck to get him in here even though he's only forty-two years old."

"Forty-nine," Earnie corrected, and Gary wrote it down.

Earnie drew Gary over to the side of the hall and lowered his voice to confidential volume. "Look, Gary," he said. "I like you. I don't want to see you get hurt. You'll just lay off Mr. Kluck if you know what's good for you. And stay away from me. If you stir up the Kluck thing, I don't want anybody thinking I'm your source."

"Anything else?" Gary asked.

"Yes," Earnie said, returning to normal voice and flashing that charming smile of his, "Have a good day!" Earnie left and Gary immediately set about digging up all he could about Carl Kluck. Among those who knew anything at all about Mr. Kluck he found two attitudes. There was the evasive group such as Dr. Visionaire, Mr. Boggle, and Ms. Ormond, and the smoldering group such as the residents and staff who had encountered Mr. Kluck's pushiness in one way or another.

Having done as much fishing as he could at the perimeter of the fishing hole, Gary decided to cast out into deep waters.

The door to Room 204 was open. Gary walked in as casually as possible and said, "Hello there! I'm Gary Allen from the Battlefield Weekly. Just came up for the day to do some interviews. Are you a resident, Sir?"

"A resident?" Mr. Kluck barked. "Not hardly! I just stopped in to visit a friend. He's down at X-ray or some such thing."

"Oh," Gary answered. "Well, Sir, would you care to make any comments for my readers?"

"No, I would not! I've had nothing but bad experience with reporters. Go peddle your papers somewhere else."

"Oh? Well, sorry to have intruded," Gary said, backing awkwardly out the door as if being pushed by some invisible force.

Shortly afterward, Jerome approached Gary in the hall and asked, "I beg your pardon, Sir, but are you Mr. Gary Allen?"

"Sure am!" Gary answered. "What can I do for you?"

"Sir, I wonder if you would be kind enough to leave now?" Jerome said. "There's been a complaint from a resident and I've been asked to escort you to the gate."

"Really? Which resident, may I ask?"

"I wouldn't know, Sir. Shall we go?" Jerome said, turning to face the desired direction and making a slight bow as he motioned toward the horizon with one hand. Gary Allen drove back to Saratoga, stopping at the McDonald's for a take-out sandwich and coffee before going on to his office at the Battlefield Weekly.

He re-read his notes, then flicked his word processor on and sat there sipping his coffee as he considered his opening lines.

While thus engaged, the phone rang. He picked it up and said, "Gary."

"Mr. Allen," the voice on the phone said, "I'm calling about your visit to Spruce Valley today."

"Uh-huh," Gary answered.

"It's important that you shouldn't jump to conclusions or perhaps adopt a sensational attitude. Such things are very destructive. Believe me, destructive is something I know about."

"Can you be more specific?" Gary asked. "I don't follow what you're saying."

"I think you do," the caller said. "There are elements of national security at stake here. I hope you will remember your duty to your country and stay clear of areas you don't really understand."

"Is this about Carl Kluck?" Gary asked.

"Could be."

"It is or it isn't," Gary insisted. "Which is it?"

"Don't be coy, Mr. Allen," the caller said. "You've got the picture. Now we'll just have to see whether you're a real American or not."

Click! Bzzzz! The caller had hung up.

Gary was mad. Goodness, no! Mustn't disturb Mr. Kluck! Fate of the nation at stake! Why? You wouldn't understand, Sonny. The authority? An anonymous voice on the phone. Maybe that sort of crap worked in the Cold War days, but no newsman worth his ink ought to buy it today.

It was scary though. Dr. Visionaire had warned him about getting hurt; didn't want to be implicated in anything displeasing to Mr. Kluck. It was the old 'let sleeping dogs lie' advice. Maybe good advice in this instance.

Gary sat there a while, then fished a nickle out of his pocket, flipped it into the air, grabbed it, and slapped it onto his wrist. "Heads!" he proclaimed. "We do it!" Then, a moment later, he admitted to himself, "Hell! I'd have done it for tails, too!"

THE END - Chapter 9

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