while it lasted. The last thing I remember was the gong in
the next room clanging steadily while Stein, good old Stein, right in
there beside me was swinging and yelling, "Don't hurt him! Don't hurt
him!"
I woke up with another headache. When I sat up with a grunt and looked
around I saw Stein and his nose four inches from a mirror, gingerly
trying his tongue against his front teeth. I snickered. He didn't like
that, and turned around.
"You don't look so hot yourself."
He was right. I couldn't see much out of my left eye. We grinned at
each other. "Right in there pitching, weren't you?"
He shrugged. "What did you expect me to do?"
"Run for help," I told him. "Or stand there and watch me get a going
over."
"Sure." He looked uncomfortable. "I'm supposed to keep an eye on you."
"So you did." I thought back. "What happened to Whom when I addressed
him properly?"
It must have hurt his cheek when he tried to smile. "Still out, at
last report. You know, Pete, you have a fairly good left--and a lousy
temper."
I knew that. "I just got tired of getting pushed around. Besides, with
no pants I was stuck to that chair."
"Probably." His tongue pushed gently against his sore lip. "You think
that was the right way to go about making things better?"
Maybe not. But did he have any better ideas?
He wasn't sure, but he didn't think a laboratory was just the right
place for a brawl.
"Just why I started it. Now what?"
He didn't know that either. "Kellner is having hysterics, and I just
made some phone calls."
If the Old Man showed up I had some nice words ready to use. "Now we
might get some action."
Stein gave me a sour look. "Not necessarily the kind you'll like. I'll
be back after I try to talk some sense into Kellner."
"Hey!" I yelled after him. "Where's my pants?"
"Back in a few minutes," he tossed over his shoulder; "make yourself
comfortable," and he left.
* * * * *
Comfortable with a cot and a mirror and a washbowl. I washed my face
and lay on the cot with a washrag soaked in cold water on my throbbing
eye. I must have dozed off. When I woke the Old Man was standing over
me. I sat up and the rag fell off my eye.
"What's cooking, Bossman?"
I don't think his frown was completely genuine. "You, apparently."
I swung my legs over the edge of the cot and stretched. "Have a seat
and a cigarette."
He sat down beside me and reached for his lighter. "Peter
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