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Waldo grinned happily. ‘Getting stronger every day. I gripped two hundred pounds this morning. And see how much fat I've worked off.

‘You're looking fit, all right. Here's a funny thing. Ever since I first met you I've wished to high heaven that you were as strong as an ordinary man.

‘You really did? Why?

‘Well . .. I think you will admit that you used some pretty poisonous language to me, one time and another. You had me riled up all the time. I wanted you to get strong so that I could just beat the hell out of you.

Waldo had been walking up and down, getting used to his shoes. He stopped and faced Stevens. He seemed considerably startled. ‘You mean you wanted to fist-fight me?

‘Exactly. You used language to me that a man ought not to use unless he is prepared to back it up with his fists. If you had not been an invalid I would have pasted you one, oh, any number of times.

Waldo seemed to be struggling with a new concept. ‘I think I see,' he said slowly. ‘Well - all right.' On the last word he delivered a roundhouse swipe with plenty of power behind it. Stevens was not in the least expecting it; it happened to catch him on the button. He went down. out cold

When he came to he found himself in a chair. Waldo was shaking him. ‘Wasn't that right?' he said anxiously

‘What did you hit me with?

‘My hand. Wasn't that right? Wasn't that what you wanted?

‘Wasn't that what I-' He still had little bright lights float­ing in front of his eyes, but the situation began to tickle him. ‘Look here - is that your idea of the proper way to start a fight?

‘Isn't it?

Stevens tried to explain to him the etiquette of fisticuffs, contemporary American. Waldo seemed puzzled, but finally he nodded. ‘I get it. You have to give the other man warning. All right - get up, and we'll do it over.

‘Easy, easy! Wait a minute. You never did give me a chance to finish what I was saying. I was sore at you, but I'm not any more. That is what I was trying to tell you. Oh, you were utterly poisonous; there is no doubt about that. But you couldn't help being.

‘I don't mean to be poisonous,' Waldo said seriously

‘I know you don't, and you're not. I rather like you now -now that you're strong.

‘Do you really?

‘Yes, I do. But don't practise any more of those punches on me.

Iwon't. But I didn't understand. But, do you know, Dr Stevens, it's-

‘Call inc Jim.

‘Jim. It's a very hard thing to know just what people do expect. There is so little pattern to it. Take belching; I didn't know it was forbidden to burp when other people are around. It seems obviously necessary to me. But Uncle Gus says not.

Stevens tried to clear up the matter for him - not too well, as he found that Waldo was almost totally lacking in any notion, even theoretical, of social conduct. Not even from fic­tion had he derived a concept of the intricacies of mores, as he bad read almost no fiction. He had ceased reading stories in his early boyhood, because he lacked the background of experi­ence necessary to appreciate fiction

He was rich, powerful, and a mechanical genius, but he still needed to go to kindergarten

Waldo had a proposition to make. ‘Jim, you've been very helpful. You explain these things better than Uncle Gus does. I'll hire you to teach me.

Stevens suppressed a slight feeling of pique. ‘Sorry. I've got a job that keeps me busy.

‘Oh, that's all right. I'll pay you better than they do. You can name your own salary. It's a deal.

Stevens took a deep breath and sighed. ‘You don't under­stand. I'm an engineer and I don't hire out for personal ser­vice. You can't hire me. Oh, I'll help you all I can, but I won't take money for it

‘What's wrong with taking money?

The question, Stevens thought, was stated wrongly. As it stood it could not be answered. He launched into a long, in­volved discussion of professional and business conduct. He was really not fitted for it; Waldo soon bogged down. ‘I'm afraid I don't get it. But see here - could you teach me how to behave with girls ~ Uncle Gus says he doesn't dare take me out in company

‘Well, I'll try. I'll certainly try. But, Waldo, I came over to see you about some of the problems we're running into at the plant. About this theory of the two spaces that you were telling me about-

‘It's not theory; it's fact.

‘All right. What I want to know is this: When do you expect to go back to Freehold and resume research? We need some help.

‘Go back to Freehold? I haven't any idea. I don't intend to resume research.

‘You don't? But, my heavens, you haven't finished half the investigations you outlined to me.

‘You fellows can do ‘em. I'll help out with suggestions, of course.

‘Well - maybe we could interest Gramps Schneider,' Stevens said doubtfully

‘I would not advise it,' Waldo answered. ‘Let me show you a letter he sent me.' He left and fetched it back. ‘Here.

Stevens glanced through it. ‘-your generous offer of your share in the new power project I appreciate, but, truthfully, I have no interest in such things and would find the responsi­bility a burden. As for the news of your new strength I am happy, but not surprised. The power of the Other World is his who would claim it-' There was more to it. It was written in a precise Spencerian hand, a trifle shaky; the rhetoric showed none of the colloquialisms with which Schneider spoke

‘Hm-m-m - I think I see what you mean.

‘I believe,' Waldo said seriously, ‘that he regards our manipulations with gadgets as rather childish.

‘I suppose. Tell me, what do you intend to do with your-self?

‘Me? I don't know, exactly. But I can tell you this: I'm going to have fun. I'm going to have lots of fun. I'm just beginning to find out bow much fun it is to be a man!

His dresser tackled the other slipper. ‘To tell you just why I took up dancing would be a long story,' he continued. ‘I want details.

‘Hospital calling,' someone in the dressing room said. ‘Tell ‘em I'll be right there, fast. Suppose you come in to­morrow afternoon?' he added to the woman reporter. ‘Can you?

‘Right.

A man was shouldering his way through the little knot around him. Waldo caught his eye. ‘Hello, Stanley. Glad to see you.

‘Hello, Waldo.' Gleason pulled some papers out from under his cape and dropped them in the dancer's lap. ‘Brought these over myself as I wanted to see your act again.

‘Like it?

‘Swell!

Waldo grinned and picked up the papers. ‘Where is the dotted line?

‘Better read them first,' Gleason cautioned him

‘Oh shucks, no. If it suits you, it suits me. Can I borrow your stylus?

A worried little man worked his way up to them. ‘About that recording, Waldo-

‘We've discussed that,' Waldo said flatly. ‘I only perform before audiences.

‘We've combined it with the Warm Springs benefit.

‘That's different. OK.

‘While you're about it, take a look at this layout.' It was areduction, for a twenty-four sheet:

THE GREAT WALDO AND HIS TROUPE

with the opening date and theatre left blank, but with a picture of Waldo, as Harlequin, poised high in the air

‘Fine, Sam, fine!' Waldo nodded happily

‘Hospital calling again!

‘I'm ready now,' Waldo answered, and stood up. His dresser draped his street cape over his lean shoulders. Waldo whistled sharply. ‘Here, Baldur! Come along.' At the door he stopped an instant, and waved. ‘Goodnight, fellows!

‘Goodnight, Waldo.

They were all such grand guys