“Well… maybe you’re right, Max. I suppose I could spare Agent 44.”
“44 would be fine, Chief.”
“Who is 44?” Peaches asked.
“Rather than telling you, I’ll show you,” Max said. “Agent 44 is always around somewhere.”
“You might try my safe, Max,” the Chief said.
“Yes.”
Max walked to a wall, and removed a picture that concealed a safe. He dialed the combination, then opened the door of the safe, then stepped back.
A face appeared in the opening. It was a rather sad face.
“Peaches… this is Agent 44,” Max said. He turned to the face in the safe. “And, 44, this is Peaches Twelvetrees. Peaches will be accompanying me.”
44 nodded. “Howdy.”
Peaches groaned.
“See you later, 44,” Max said.
“I’ll be around,” 44 replied.
Max closed the safe, spun the dial, then rehung the picture.
“I always feel safe with 44 around,” Max smiled.
“All right, Max, now will you get going?”
“Didn’t you get that, Chief? That was a pun. You see, 44 was behind the safe, and I said, ‘I always feel safe with 44 around.’ ”
“Max, Noman might be closing in on this office right now.”
“I know, Chief. But did you get my pun? It was a play on the word ‘safe,’ you see. I said-”
“Max, are you sure that was 44 behind that safe?”
“Of course. I’d know 44 anywhere.”
“Are you sure, Max, that it wasn’t Noman pretending to be Agent 44?”
Max glanced nervously at the picture that concealed the wall safe. “I think we’d better get out of here,” he said to Peaches, taking her arm and steering her toward the door. “I don’t feel safe here any more.”
“Good running, Max,” the Chief said.
“Thank you, Chief,” Max replied, opening the door.
“And don’t talk to strangers!”
“Chief-don’t treat me like a child.”
“What I mean is, any stranger might be Noman.”
“I’ll remember that, Chief. And I’ll be reporting in-every hour on the hour, more or less.”
Max closed the door, and he and Peaches headed down the corridor.
“How do you know you’ll be able to report in every hour on the hour?” Peaches said. “Suppose you’re not near a phone?”
“I’ll call him on my shoe,” Max explained.
Peaches sagged a little. “I knew this was going to be a day like this,” she said woefully.
“When exactly did you decide that?” Max asked.
“When I first saw you.”
Max smiled. “That’s much better,” he said. “You know, there for a second, back in the Chief’s office, I had the impression that you didn’t care much for me. I’m glad to know that I’ve won you over.”
2
As Max and Peaches continued down the corridor, Max took the Plan from his pocket and began to study it. Then abruptly he said, “Oops, sorry. I’m hogging the Plan. If you’d care to look at it, too, it’s all right if you peek over my shoulder.”
“Thank you,” Peaches said coolly.
“That’s quite all right. There are some occasions-such as floods, hurricanes and when being pursued by the enemy-when etiquette can be ignored.”
“When are we going to get out of here?” Peaches said, eyeing the long length of corridor that lay before them.
“Any-” Max suddenly halted. “Wait a minute. We can’t leave by the main exit. Noman will undoubtedly be waiting for us. We’ll have to go back and leave by the secret exit.”
“Where is that?” Peaches groaned.
“Sorry. I can’t reveal that information. It’s secret.” He signalled. “Follow me.”
They turned and made their way back along the corridor to an elevator.
“What’s so secret about this?” Peaches said, as they got aboard. “It looks like an elevator. It even says ‘elevator’ on the door.”
“The secret is: the ‘up’ button doesn’t work,” Max replied as the door closed. “When you punch the ‘up’ button, all you get is a recorded announcement telling you that you’ve punched the wrong button. And, oh, yes, the whole elevator explodes.”
Max punched the ‘down’ button. And the elevator began a slow descent.
“Down?” Peaches said. “But we were in the basement when we started!”
Max nodded. “Clever, eh? Very few people would get aboard an elevator in the basement and punch the ‘down’ button. That’s why we call it our secret exit. It isn’t very often used.”
“I can imagine. Where will it take us?”
“To the sub-sub-sub-sub-sub-sub-basement.” He looked thoughtful, counting in his mind, then said, “Add one more sub to that.”
Peaches snatched the Plan from his hand. “I’m not even going to talk to you any more,” she said disgustedly. “I’m going to work on this code.”
“Mind if I peek over your shoulder?”
“Yes. But I’m sure that won’t stop you.”
“Anyway, I’m glad to see that you’re speaking to me again,” Max said.
As they sank lower into the earth they studied the words on the sheet of paper.
“Have you noticed,” Max said, “that those first three words are all the names of men?”
“Shhhh! I’m working.”
“There’s ‘Sad Al’ That’s obviously a man named Al. And ‘Astor.’ That’s the last name of a man. John Jacob Astor. Remember him? He was in the fur trade. Which reminds me of a little joke. What kind of a garment is the same as a long walk?”
“Shhhh!”
“No, that’s not the right answer. The right answer is: a fur piece. Get it? A fur piece is a garment. And it’s also a long walk. For instance, if you were to ask a stranger how far it is from Washington, D.C., to New York City, he would reply, ‘It’s a fur piece.’ ”
“Will you please be quiet!”
“Sorry about that.”
Frowning, Max continued to study the words. “Mays,” he said. “That could be Willie Mays. But I’m sure he isn’t mixed up with KAOS.”
“Shhhhh.”
“Anyway, we know there are three men involved. So, what else do we have? ‘Bronco Con.’ Bronco is a horse. And ‘Con’ is short for ‘confidence game.’ In other words, a phony horse. Or, in still other words, a Trojan horse. Yes, now it’s all coming clear. What we’re looking for is three men in a Trojan horse.”
The elevator came to a halt, and the door slid open.
“All out,” Max announced.
“Where do we go from here?”
“Well, this is a series of tunnels-a little like a maze. If you know your way, it’s very simple to get from here to the secret exit-which is a manhole that opens in a deserted section of the city. However, if you don’t know your way, you could get lost down here and never find your way out.”
Peaches looked at him, fear-stricken. “You’re going to lead us out?”
“That’s right.”
Peaches screamed. “Help! Somebody! Help! We’re lost!”
“If I were thin-skinned, I’d consider that as evidence of a lack of confidence in my ability,” Max said.
“Help!”
At that moment, a man in an usher’s uniform appeared. He was stooped, and had a long white beard. He looked to be about one-hundred-and-ninety.
“At your service, Mr. Smart,” the man creaked.
“Just in time, Willowby,” Max said.
Peaches pointed. “Who’s he?”
“This is Willowby, our head usher,” Max replied. “You see, we were losing so many secret agents down here we had to put in guides. That was years ago. We haven’t lost a secret agent since. That is, none of ours, anyway.” He turned to Willowby. “Isn’t that true?”
“That’s true,” Willowby replied. “And I ought to know-I’ve been down here from the first.”
“All right, Willowby,” Max said, “which way to the secret exit?”
Willowby pointed to the entrance to a tunnel. “That way, sir.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh… Mr. Smart,” Willowby said, “one thing. I haven’t been out lately, you know. What’s the news on the outside?”
“World, national or local?”
“Well… how is the President doing these days?”