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“You’re what’s wrong with the world,” said Miss Daily bravely, her back straight, her lips trembling. “And now that I’ve met you, and seen that you’re worse than I ever imagined you to be, I’m not sorry at all I did what I did. I’m glad.”

“Huh?” said Broom, his stride broken. He looked questioningly at Carmody and Sterling, who in turn looked uneasily at Miss Daily.

“Your last dividend check, Mr. Fessenden,” said Miss Daily. “I signed your name on the back, and sent it to the Red Cross.”

Carmody and Sterling exchanged glances full of horror.

“I did it single-handed,” said Miss Daily. “Mr. Carmody and Mr. Sterling know nothing about it. It was only two hundred and fifty dollars, so you won’t miss it—and it’s in better hands than if you’d given it to that shameless Fifi.”

“Um,” said Broom, completely at sea.

“Well, aren’t you going to call the police?” said Miss Daily. “I’m quite ready to go, if it would satisfy you to prefer charges.”

“Well, I—uh—” mumbled Broom. He got no help with his lines from Carmody and Sterling, who were thunderstruck. “Easy come, easy go,” he said at last. “Isn’t that right, Sterling?”

Sterling roused himself. “Root of all evil,” he said desolately.

Broom tried to think of something more to say, but failed.

“Well, off to Monte Carlo,” he said. “Ta ta.”

“Catalina,” said Miss Daily. “You just came from Monte Carlo.”

“Catalina,” said Broom.

“Don’t you feel much better, Mr. Fessenden?” said Miss Daily. “Doesn’t it make you happy to have done something unselfish for a change?”

“Yup,” said Broom, nodding gravely, and he left.

“He took it like a little gentleman,” said Miss Daily to Carmody and Sterling.

“Oh, it’s easy enough for Bomar,” said Carmody bleakly, looking with loathing at Sterling, the Frankenstein who’d invented the monster. A new check would have to be made out to the real Bomar, and Carmody could think of no graceful way of explaining to the powers upstairs what had happened to the old one. Carmody, Sterling, and Miss Daily were through at American Forge and Foundry. The monster had turned on them savagely, and destroyed all three.

“I think Mr. Fessenden learned something today,” said Miss Daily.

Carmody laid his hand on Miss Daily’s shoulder. “Miss Daily, there’s something you’d better know,” he said grimly. “We’re in quite a mess, Miss Daily. That was not Bomar Fessenden III who was just in here, and nothing we’ve said about Bomar is true.”

“A joke,” said Sterling bitterly.

“Well, I must say it wasn’t a very funny joke,” said Miss Daily. “It was quite unkind, treating me like an idiot.”

“No—it wasn’t funny at all, the way it turned out,” said Carmody.

“Not as funny as my joke about forging the check,” said Miss Daily.

“That was a joke?” said Carmody.

“Certainly,” said Miss Daily sweetly. “Aren’t you going to smile, Mr. Carmody? Not even a little snicker, Mr. Sterling? Heavens—it really is time to retire. No one seems to be able to laugh at himself anymore.”

THE MAN WITHOUT NO KIDDLEYS

“I done ate twelve barium meals in my time,” said Noel Sweeny. Sweeny had never felt really well, and now, on top of everything else, he was ninety-four years old. “Twelve times Sweeny’s stomach’s been x-rayed. Reckon that’s some kind of a world’s record.”

Sweeny was on a bench by a shuffleboard court in Tampa, Florida. He was talking to another old man, a stranger who shared the bench with him.

The stranger had plainly just begun a new way of life in Florida. He wore black shoes, black silk socks, and the trousers of a blue serge business suit. His sports shirt and fighter-pilot cap were crackling, glossy new. A price tag was still stapled to the hem of his shirt.

“Um,” said the stranger to Sweeny, without looking at him. The stranger was reading the Sonnets of William Shakespeare.

“From fairest creatures we desire increase,/That thereby beauty’s rose might never die,” Shakespeare said to the stranger.

“How many times you had your stomach x-rayed?” Sweeny said to the stranger.

“Um,” said the stranger.

“Music to hear,