ch was almost impregnable when there was a job in
hand. "I've been standing here talking to you for some time."

"Oh, have you?" Mitchell said. "I was busy." That, obviously,
explained that. Malone shrugged.

"I want you to help me check over some calculators, Fred," he said.
"We've had some reports that some of the government machines are out
of kilter, and I'd like you to go over them for me."

"Out of kilter?" Fred Mitchell said. "No, you can forget about it.
It's absolutely unnecessary to make a check--believe me. Absolutely.
Forget it." He smiled suddenly. "I suppose it's some kind of a joke,
isn't it?" he said, just a trifle uncertainly. Fred Mitchell's world,
while pleasant, did not include much humor, Malone knew. "It's
supposed to be funny," he said in the same flat, precise voice.

"It isn't funny," Malone said.

Fred sighed. "Then they're obviously lying," he said, "and that's all
there is to it. Why bother me with it?"

"Certainly," Fred said. He looked at the machinery with longing.

Malone took a breath. "How do you know?" he said.

Fred sighed. "It's perfectly obvious," he said in a patient tone.
"Since the State Department translator has no pig-Latin circuit, it
can't possibly be talking pig-Latin. I will admit that such a circuit
would be relatively easy to build, though it would have no utility as
far as I can see. Except, of course, for a joke." He paused. "Joke?"
he said, in a slightly uneasy tone.

"Sure," Malone said. "Joke."

Mitchell looked relieved. "Very well, then," he began. "Since--"

"Wait a minute," Malone said. "The pig-Latin is a joke. That's right.
But I'm not talking about the pig-Latin."

"You're not?" Mitchell asked, surprised.

"No," Malone said.

Mitchell frowned. "But you said--" he began.

"A joke," Malone said. "You were perfectly right. The pig-Latin is a
joke." He waited for Fred's expression to clear, and then added: "But
what I want to talk to you about isn't."

"It sounds very confused," Fred said after a pause. "Not at all the
sort of thing that ... that usually goes on."

"You have no idea," Malone said. "It's about the political machines,
all right, but it isn't anything as simple as pig-Latin." He
explained, taking his time over it.

When he had finished, Fred was nodding his head slowly. "I see," he
said. "I understand just what you want me to do."

"Good," Malone said.

"I'll take a team over to the Senate Office Building," Fred said, "and
ch