e."

"You just might want something to eat, or a hot, soapy shower, or a
tight roof over you when it rains."

The Buttons smiled triumphantly. They had their own house, with a
DoItAll to do everything for them.

"You can leave us alone, Mr. Pirate Burgee. Captain Possett told us your
whole horrible story, and Cousin Aurelia is calling the police right
this minute."

"Possett?" The captain's face twitched. "Mike Possett, of the _Beautiful
Joe_?"

"That's right." Charles felt very superior. "Now you beat it before--"

He didn't finish. From the house came a loud, anguished cry.

They whirled.

Cousin Aurelia, disheveled without helmet or duster, was almost upon
them.

"Charles! It won't work!"

She reached him, threw her arms round his neck and hung on.

"I can't turn the servants on, or the teleprojection, or even the keys
to the closets. Oh, Charles, we'll have nothing to eat, or to drink, or
to wear!"

"That's impossible. DoItAlls never break down."

"We can't live without it!" screeched Cousin Aurelia. "We're millions of
miles from Boston! We're marooned with that monster!"

* * * * *

Burgee's long, low house was indecently plain, without even so much as a
gimcrack or bit of gingerbread decoration. Its many wide windows looked
out over a lake set with islands. Its living room had broad, cushioned
couches and indolent chairs--all suspiciously comfortable.

In exactly such houses, Charles knew, in the wicked old days, a fate
worse than death had been practically part of the fixtures.

"We shouldn't have let him persuade us," he worriedly told Betty.
"Perhaps we'd have starved, but at least Cousin Aurelia wouldn't have
locked herself alone into a strange pirate's bedroom!"

"We've been here all afternoon," Betty pointed out, "and he hasn't tried
anything yet. Besides, he helped carry those cases of hers and he gave
her the keys himself. It's peculiar. Oh, Charles, do you suppose
that--that it's _me_ he's after?"

Before he could answer, a robot came in, a practical, old-fashioned
model with four arms for waiting at table.

"Dinner is served." It snapped its aluminum jaws. "Come to the dining
room, please."

Reluctantly, they obeyed.

"Whatever you do," whispered Charles warningly at the door, "don't let
him ply you with liquor."

The captain stood at the head of the table. He was in full evening
dress, with a heavy gold-nugget watch chain across his muscular