Max: She’s right about that, Chief-I did.
Chief: Then where is he? It’s no more than a hundred feet or so from the entrance of the building to my office.
Operator: It’s only been three days-give him a chance.
Max: Frankly, Operator, I think it’s Arnold’s mother who wants him to be a secret agent, not Arnold. And you. You and his mother are pushing him into this.
Operator: Pooh! If he doesn’t want to be a secret agent, what does he want to be?
Max: Missing. And I think he’s achieved his goal.
Operator: Sorry, sir, your time is up. Deposit another seven thousand dollars, consisting of the following combination of coins: twelve French francs, seventeen Czechoslovakian halerus, eleven Turkish kurus, nine Russian-
Max: Operator, stop it! In the first place, this isn’t a pay shoe. And in the second place, you’re just looking for an excuse to cut me off because of what I said about you and Arnold’s mother. The truth is, Operator, the truth hurts!
Operator: Seven thousand dollars in unissued foreign coins, Max! Put up or shut up!
Max: I protest! Let me talk to your Supervisor!
Operator: No can do, Max. All protests have to be submitted in writing. Where’s that seven thou?
Max: Operator, would you settle for my Diners’ Club Card?
Operator: Cash on the barrelhead, Max. Sorry about that.
The line went dead.
Max sighed sadly, then put his shoe back on his foot.
“Bad news, Max?” 99 said sympathetically.
“No. Not if no news is good news,” Max replied. “But I still don’t know who it was who called me when we were floating down the river on that plastic raft. .”
“Max, I told you, if it was important, whoever it was will call you back.”
Max turned to Hassan. “Hassan, it wasn’t you, by any chance, who called me, was it?”
“I was there on the raft with you,” Hassan replied.
“I know. But I don’t want to leave any possibilities unturned.”
“Max. .” 99 said, lowering her voice and glancing around the perimeter of the clearing.
“99, fess up, now, was it you who called me?”
“Max,” 99 replied, still speaking softly, “number one, I was on the raft with you, too. And, number two, I didn’t have a phone. But, Max-”
“I have two shoes, you know,” Max said. “You could have been using the extension.”
“Max, it wasn’t me who called you. Will you forget about that call? Max, I think we’re in jeopardy.”
“Nonsense, 99. I’m sure we’re still in New Ghirzy. If we’d crossed over into Jeopardy, I’m positive we’d have seen some border guards.”
“Max, I mean we’re in danger. We’re surrounded by a band of evil-looking cutthroats. They’re hiding in the underbrush. I just caught a glimpse of several of them.”
Coolly, Max glanced about. “Yes, I see them,” he said, speaking softly. “And I think you’re right, 99. They do look like Jeopardyians.”
“Max, jeopardy means danger.”
“I don’t care if they did get their independence and change the name of their country, 99, they’re still Jeopardyians to me.”
“Well, Hassan,” Max said. “Time for another miracle.”
“You got yourself into this,” Hassan replied. “Get yourself out.”
“Hassan, in the name of-”
A wild cry suddenly issued from the underbrush. A band of about a half-dozen evil-looking cutthroats, brandishing pistols, leaped from hiding places and surrounded Max, 99 and Hassan.
“If you’re the welcoming committee from the Chamber of Commerce, I’ll tell you right now, your technique could use some polishing,” Max said.
“Silence!” the head cutthroat commanded.
“It’s a very small person who can’t take criticism,” Max pouted. “You know, we grow in both efficiency and proficiency by having our mistakes pointed out to us.”
“Siiiiiilence!” the head cutthroat shrieked.
“Otherwise, we become soreheads,” Max muttered.
“Bind them and blindfold them,” the head cutthroat ordered his cohorts.
Working efficiently and proficiently, the men tied Max’s, 99’s and Hassan’s hands behind their backs, then placed blindfolds over their eyes.
“I’ll tell you another thing, if you’re trying to encourage the tourist trade, this is no way to do it,” Max said.
One of the cutthroats stuffed a gag into Max’s mouth.
“Mrbmfph!” Max protested.
The cutthroats led Max, 99 and Hassan stumbling through the jungle. After about a half-hour’s travel they halted, and removed the blindfolds-and the gag from Max’s mouth. The three found themselves standing at the doorway to a crude grass hut. Then they were rudely shoved inside.
An African, seated behind a rough wooden table, and wearing a bushy black beard, and dressed in khaki, greeted them with a snarling accusation. “Spies!”
“Is that what those fellows are?” Max said. “When they tied us up and put blindfolds on us, I guessed they were up to no good. But I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.”
“Not them, you spy!” the man thundered. “Those men are my loyal followers. I am Freddy Fitz-Hugh, III, Generalissimo of the Grand Revolution! You are the spies!”
Max peered at him closely. “Freddy Fitz-Hugh, III?”
“It’s not my real name,” Fitz-Hugh admitted. “I was born Lester Mdunboto-which, in my tongue, means ‘lightning that sometimes strikes twice in the same place.’ But Freddy Fitz-Hugh, III, has more of a revolutionary sound to it, don’t you think?”
Max shook his head. “No.”
Fitz-Hugh glared at him, then called one of his followers into the hut. “This spy just disagreed with me,” he said. “Make a note of that. It’s evidence.”
The follower got out a notepad and pencil and sat down at the table and scribbled a notation.
“Who is paying you to spy on us?” Fitz-Hugh demanded of Max.
“Spy? We’re not spies.”
Fitz-Hugh turned to his follower. “He’s lying. Make a note of that. It’s evidence.” Then, again, he faced Max. “If you’re not spies, what are you?”
“It so happens that we’re secret agents, assigned to Control, and here on a secret mission,” Max replied.
Hassan stepped forward. “Not me. I’m just an innocent bystander. I’ve never seen these two spies before in my life. You see, I was making the rounds of my customers-I’m a dealer in chain-driven saxophones-when suddenly these two spies appeared out of nowhere and asked directions. Well-”
“When I want a confession, I’ll torture you for it!” Fitz-Hugh interrupted. He turned to his follower once more. “Giving directions to spies,” he said. “That’s treason. It’s also evidence, so make a note of it.”
“I object!” Max said. “You’re twisting everything we say!”
“Where else are we going to get evidence when we don’t have any facts?” Fitz-Hugh replied. “This is a court of law. You wouldn’t suggest that we make a judgment without having any evidence, would you? I thought you Americans were supposed to be so hot for justice.”
“He’s got you there,” Hassan said to Max.
Fitz-Hugh pounded a fist on the table. “Having considered the evidence, this court finds the defendants guilty-as-charged,” he said. “Now, if you three will just make a confession, we can execute you, and get on to more important things-the Grand Revolution.”
“Is a confession really necessary?” Max asked.
“It makes it neater.”
“I know, but is there any other choice?”
“Well, you can either confess straight-out, or we can torture you for a while, until you confess, and then execute you. But we prefer the straight-out confession. It saves time. And when you’re running a Grand Revolution, every minute counts.”
“About that torture,” Max said. “What’s the usual procedure?”