were
part of the studio audience? Or was there some other way? It was
typical of Rick, when faced with an apparently insoluble problem, to
look for an answer.
The miner finally remembered, and the three breathed a mutual sigh of
relief. But the ordeal was not yet over, because the questioning had
several parts. Next came a quiz on the Star of Africa.
The questions asked, the camera began switching from the contestant's
face to the tense faces in the audience. A woman, probably the miner's
mother ... a man with a beard ... a man with a hearing aid ...
Rick suddenly sat up straight. He had it! He knew how the information
could be handed to the contestant! At least he knew in theory. He sat
back and started to work out the details.
The miner made it. Limp and happy, he came out of the booth, shook
hands with the MC, and staggered off with an armload of books
containing answers to next week's series of questions. The announcer
went into the final commercial, with Barby and Scotty listening
attentively. Rick didn't listen. He had a wonderful idea on which he
was putting the finishing touches.
As programs shifted, Scotty reached up and turned off the set. Dismal
left his place under the table and trotted off to the kitchen.
"Me for a doughnut," Scotty announced.
Barby was still spellbound by the miner's success. "It's just
fantastic, utterly, how much he knows." She shook her smooth blond
head. "I wish I knew that much about something."
"Want to win a million?" Rick asked.
"Who doesn't?" Barby returned dreamily. Suddenly she stared. "You
have a Look on your face," she stated. "Rick Brant, you're cooking up
something!"
Rick grinned. "I can win the quiz," he said casually. "It's easy. Let
me know if either of you want to win. Of course you might end up in
jail if you're not real careful, but I think it'll work."
Scotty looked his disbelief. "Easy, huh? What are you expert on?"
"Nothing," Rick said airily. "And anything. Of course we all know
you're an expert on eating, but that's not a category, it's a
capacity."
Barby gave what might be described as a lady-like sneer.
Rick shook his head. "It's terrible the way people in this house have
no faith in genius. Just terrible." He sighed heavily.
Scotty watched him suspiciously. "All right, Doctor Brant. Give with
the great idea."
"Okay." Rick waved at the encircling shelves of books. "Pick a
subject. Any subject, so long as it is contained in a
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