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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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