go home and get to work."

In the Mighty and Benevolent Kingdom of Szkazia, a minor reign of terror existed. The King, tired of complaints from his subjects, had just finished dressing down his Prime Minister. The Prime Minister was passing the abuse on to his Chief Scientist. "If something isn't done soon, I won't be responsible for your head, my friend. The King is in a rage."

The eyes of the Chief Scientist watered—partly from fear, and partly from nights and days spent in his laboratory beating out his brains on one idea after another.

"I'm doing my best, sire—"

"It's not good enough! These steel girders coming out of nowhere! Banging people in the head—whacking them in the stomach! Why it isn't safe to walk through the halls of the Administration Building. Even the bedrooms of the Executive Apartments are not safe! The other night the Director of Propaganda had just gone to bed—"

"I know of the incident," the Chief Scientist said hurriedly.

"Oh, you do? But you've done nothing about—"

"I've been working hard," the scientist said patiently, "and I think I have the solution. Give me another day."

"One day, then. After that—" The Prime Minister made a significant slicing motion with his finger.

The Prime Minister chewed his fingernails and watched the clock. Sleep was out of the question with the King calling up every little while yelling for action. The Minister counted the hours and presented himself at the Royal Laboratories precisely twenty-four hours later. "Time's up," he snapped.

The Chief Scientist was wiping his face. There were new lines around his mouth. He indicated a small steel box. "I think I've got it," he said. "Come with me."

They went swiftly to the Administration Building. "This should be close enough. We depress this lever and—and hope."

"Well, do it—do it!"

The Chief Scientist pushed the lever on the steel box. A whirring sound came from within. All the steel girder ends in sight—all the nasty little rivets—disappeared. The Chief Scientist smiled and wiped his face again. "It worked," he said.

"Excellent. I'll see that you get a medal."

"Thank you," the Chief Scientist said sadly. That was the trouble with people nowadays. They either handed you a medal or your head.

Ted and Bill stared sadly at the mess around the City Hall. Bill said, "It's a good thing it collapsed at night so nobody was killed, isn't it?"

"You said it. I'd have felt guilty if there'd been any casualties."

"What do you suppose went wrong?"

"You got me. What do you think they'll do to old Blair?"

"I don't know, but it looks pretty bad. They refused to let him out on bail."

"Serves him right. The way he treated us."

"You've got it wrong. He treated us swell. He did us a big favor. We could have been blamed for this."

Bill thought it over before saying, "I guess you're right. I hadn't looked at it that way."

"Let's go home and get to work on the leather solution."

So they did.

THE END

Transcriber's Note:

This etext was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction September 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.