"n.o.body," said Summer.

CHAPTER 12.

At dawn Palma, naked and wide awake, got up off the edge of the wide feather bed where he'd been sitting. He padded across the beam-ceilinged bedroom, pushed the shutters open to stare out at the new day. "What a worthless lout you are," he told himself aloud.

The five cream-colored doves that were roosting on the thatch roof went fluttering up into the air.

"Here you are a mature adult grown-up," continued Palma as he leaned out the window to see if there was any sign of the Scarlet Angel's returning, "and once again, you've allowed yourself to be sidetracked. What folly. The first pair of extraordinary knockers that comes down the pike and you drop your a.s.signment. Let your loyal chum, Jack Summer, down while you frolic with a highwayperson."

Palma scratched his backside, then wandered to the bed again. "Observe yourself, you miserable cur, waiting around for Angel to get home from work. She's turned you, she and her momentous gazoos, into some kind of suburban housewife. Fie and for shame. Here you've been for two days simply s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g your brains out while ... no, it's been three days," He held up a hand and started to tick off days on his fingers. "Let's see. I first slipped her the old sausage the afternoon we arrived here at the Knuckle and Chin. Then I exercised the old salami again after dinner that night and once again around about midnight. So that's one day. Then as day was breaking the next-"

"Adorable Palma!" The bedroom door swung open. The Scarlet Angel, fully clothed and wearing her riding boots, came striding in. She carried a burlap sack over her shoulder.

"I didn't hear your horses."

"We approached the stable by the rear roadway, dearest one," she said. "Did you pine for me as much as I for you?"

I'm glad you brought this up, Angel, since I-"

"What loot we did acquire this night, beautiful Palma!" Thumping the heavy sack to the floor, she clapped her hands. "Come, feast your adorable eyes on it."

"Probably pretty much like yesterday's loot." He remained seated on the bed.

"I sometimes fear you take no real interest in my career, beloved Palma."

"It's not that, Angel. But, however, I do-"

"Is this not a prize?" She held up a gold cup. "Solid gold, encrusted with rare gems."

"How'd somebody happen to be carrying that around after dark?"

"'Tis a trophy won by the Cutpurse Wood Field Hockey Team. They were carrying it home from a victorious game when we waylaid their coach."

"Oh, then that little gold guy on top is carrying a hockey stick."

"Actually it's a scythe. The trophy maker was all out of hockey players and had to subst.i.tute a farmer left over from a Grange-"

"Angel, we really must have a-"

"And what of this treasure?" She laughed as he took a two-foot-high marble statue with a gold clock in its stomach from the loot bag.

"Yeah, I knew a girl like that once." The bald photographer decided he could better present his decision to move out of here if he had on his clothes.

"Here we have a sack of gold Waldos." She rattled the pouch, then thrust a hand in. "Look at this particular one. It's the rare minting where they left off half of King Waldo's moustache. A coin buff will pay upwards-""Angel, listen." Palma got into his allseason underwear. "There comes a moment in the affairs of men when love and duty-"

A snuffbox?" The lovely redhead wrinkled her nose at this latest object she'd taken from the sack. "That should have gone in Squint's bag."

While his tunic was coming down over his head, Palma said, "I'm as dedicated to my career as you are, you see, Angel. You're a skilled highway robber and I'm an ace photographer. Thus I must-"

Blam! Wham!

"By St. Charlie's bones! What is that?" The Scarlet Angel ran to the open window. "Palma, my beloved, it's Laranja West troops. They're retreating through the woods."

"Maybe they'll retreat right on by," he said and he got all his cameras around his neck.

Nay, I fear not I see their sergeant motioning at this very inn," the girl said. "Come, we must get out of here at once."

"Wait till I pull my pants on. I recently made a vow never to leave anyplace untrousered." When he was dressed, he joined her at the window. "Dozens of them, all pouring into our courtyard."

Down below, beyond the edge of the thatch roof, men in dirty and tattered red and white uniforms were stumbling and staggering into the flagstone court of the Knuckle & Chin. Thump! Whack!

"There goes the front door," said the Scarlet Angel. "I very much fear any way of exit is now-"

"Nope, we can get out. See, we just jump onto the roof out there and then to the stable roof." He pointed. "With luck we can get a couple of mounts and get out the back way without being spotted."

"Aye, I do believe we can, admirable Palma mine." He dived across the room and grabbed up the pouch of gold coins. "We'll need traveling expenses,"

"You remain very calm under pressure."

"I've gone out of a lot of bedroom windows." Eyes narrowed, he watched the courtyard. "Most of them are inside, down in the dining room by now. Let's be up and doing." He stepped over the sill and waited for the Scarlet Angel to join him.

They made their way silently down the slightly slanting roof. Just as they reached the edge and Palma was about to leap to the stable roof four feet away a straggling Laranja West soldier chanced to look up.

His mouth opened, and his gun hand swung for his holster. Then he stiffened and toppled over against a water barrel.

"Jump," urged the redhead, holstering her stungun.

"Much obliged," He leaped The Scarlet Angel followed Palma scurried across the wooden stable roof on hands and knees, then swung down through a window hole. "Still pretty agile for somebody who spends so much time in bed." He landed on the straw, then saw to it that the horses all remained calm by patting and cajoling them.

They'd finished saddling two horses when a great howling began in the woods.

"Kill! Kill!"

"Death! Death!"

"Murder! Murder!"

"More visitors." Palma hurried to the shut door at the front of the stable and took a cautious glance through the narrow opening.

Troops in blue and gold uniforms were pouring forth out of the surrounding forest They waved knives, pistols, and clubs, screaming and howling. Their eyes were wide, and the hair of many of them stood on end.

"Death! Death!"

"Murder! Murder!"

"Laranja East troops this rime," said Palma, "A zealous lot, too."

The Laranja West soldiers in the inn began firing out at the howling troops who came charging at them. Twenty of the East troops went down, dead. More rushed out of the woods, screaming, frenzied "Let's be off." Palma led his horse to the rear of the stable and carefully pushed the door open.The narrow trail away from here was as yet empty of soldiers of either side.

He and the Scarlet Angel rode swiftly away from the Knuckle & Chin.

After they'd covered several miles, the girl said, "There is, I sense, something you wanted to tell me, cherished Palma. What is it?"

"Oh," he replied, "I was going to suggest we leave the inn."

CHAPTER 13.

Toot!

"Excuse me," said the steam robot. "My boiler has been defective ... toot ... for no little time and consequently ... toot . .. due to other flaws in my structure the escaping steam often produces a most unseemly ... toot... toot sound. Pray excuse me."

Summer had just been introduced to Thinker, the meal-serving mechanism. "Think nothing of it,"

he said. "What I'd like to-"

"What's for dinner tonight?" inquired Hesslin, putting his whiskers close to the steaming caldron Thinker had wheeled in.

"It's ... toot ... boiled offal," replied the steam robot "Again?" Young Hare groaned. "I take it the management of this alleged asylum took no notice of the nine-page critique of the bill of fare which I-"

"What's that blue stuff floating there in the offal?"

Thinker's neck creaked as he bent to gaze into the caldron. "Appears to be part of somebody's felt hat, doesn't it?"

"Isn't it bad enough they feed us offal practically every day?" demanded the catman. "Does it have to be contaminated as well?"

"Ah, but, Mr. Hesslin ... toot... under the amended Territorial Pure Food and Drug Statutes offal may contain as much as ten percent non-offal." Thinker snapped his metal fingers, which made a thung sound. "Drat, I meant to toss in that dead mouse I found on the floor of Dr. Ferrier's-"

"Cats like mice," Hesslin said slowly. "Catmen do not like mice. For an intelligent machine you-"

"Excuse me ... toot ... for being confused," said the robot. "Since the philosophical anarchist dog-faced boy on subfloor B is always asking for bones I naturally-"

"I'm not some kind of sport of nature."

"Boys, boys," said Dr. Yach. "Enough quarreling. Go ahead, Thinker, and pa.s.s out the offal."

"Yes, I... toot... will. Don't you have a bowl, Mr. Summer?"

"That's OK. I'm fasting," said the reporter. "You go to Dr. Ferrier's cell every day?"

While Thinker spooned the hot food into the other inmates' wooden bowls he said, "Three times a day. Lately I've been ... toot ... dropping in more often to ... toot... get rid of the dead mice."

"d.a.m.n," said Hesslin. Talk of something else while I'm eating my offal."

"Toot.. . excuse me."

"Do you know why Dr. Ferrier is being kept in St Charlie's?" Summer asked the robot "It has to do ... toot... with some contribution ... toot-"

"Lord almighty!" Bright-haired Hare threw his unfinished bowl of offal against the wall. "Can't you control that offensive tooting of yours?"

"Now, now," said Dr. Yach, "we can't all have complete sway over ourselves, young fellow ...

G.o.d bless the king!"

"Oh, screw the king!"

The robot wiped his spoon on his bibbed ap.r.o.n. "I will now ... toot . .. wish you a hearty ... toot ... good evening."

Summer caught his arm. It was blazing hot and he quickly let go. "Wait, Thinker. You were tellingme about Dr. Ferrier, the reason he's here."

Thinker walked to the cell door. "He made a great contribution to ... toot... the war effort."

"Why lock him up for that?"

"I must run." The door was opened from the outside, and Thinker and his caldron clattered away.

When the door was shut Summer said, "He's got a defective boiler."

"We all have our little flaws," Dr. Yach licked his fingers, then pushed his empty bowl aside. "As one grows older-"

"He's overheating," said Summer. "So it's possible he may explode."

"I would hate to think so," said the bearded old man. "Thinker and I have been through a good deal over the years. I'm certain he always saves the best offal for this cell."

The catman wiped his whiskers clean. "Are you suggesting, Summer, that it might be possible to cause Thinker to explode at a specific time?"

"Yeah, I am. To explode when he's standing right next to this door. He doesn't even have tinker-proof gauges, so it should be fairly simple to-"

"Never, sir, never." Dr. Yach grunted to his feet. "That robot is like a member of the family."

Hesslin stroked his chin fur. "There are six other doors between us and the ground level, though, Summer. Supposing we could blow our way out of this cell, we'd still have-"

"I'm not saying we're going to do it the next time Thinker comes in. There's a lot more about the layout of St Charlie's I want to know first."