houses full of people. Besides, if one man is allowed to jump up
and yell fire, then somebody else can yell out 'You're a liar, there is
no fire.'"

"You're not funny," Crowley said ominously.

"I wasn't trying to be," Ross muttered, and then blurred into sudden
action. He shot to his feet, and then, arms extended, dashed toward the
source of the voice. He hit the chair without slowing, grappled crazily.

"I've got him!" He wrestled awkwardly, fantastically, seemingly in an
insane tumbling without opponent.

Patricia was on her feet. She grasped an antique bronze candle-holder
and darted toward the now fallen chair and to where Ross was wrestling
desperately on the floor. Crowley was attempting to shout, but was
largely smothered.

Patricia held the candlestick at the ready, trying to find an opening,
trying to locate the invisible Crowley's head.

Frederick Braun staggered to his own feet, bewildered, shaking.

A voice from the door said flatly, "O.K., that's it." Then, sharper, "I
said cut it out. You all right, Mr. Crowley?"

It was Larry. His thin black automatic was held almost negligently in
his right hand. He ran his eyes up and down Patricia, taking in the
candlestick weapon. His ordinarily empty face registered a flicker of
amused approval.

Patricia gasped, "Oh, no," dropped her bludgeon and sank into a chair,
her head in her hands.

Ross, his face in dismay, came slowly to his feet. The redhead stared at
the gunman, momentarily considering further attack. Larry, ignoring
both Braun and Patricia, swung the gun to cover him exclusively. "I
wouldn't," he said emptily.

Of a sudden, Ross' head jerked backward. His nose flattened, crushingly,
and then spurted blood. He reeled back, his head flinging this way and
that, bruises and cuts appeared magically.

Crowley's voice raged, "You asked for it, wise guy. How do you like
these apples?"

The saturnine Larry chuckled sourly. "Hey, take it easy, chief. You'll
kill the guy."

Ross had crumpled to the floor. There were still sounds of blows.
Crowley raged, "You're lucky I'm not wearing shoes, I'd break every rib
in your body!"

Patricia was staring in hopeless horror. She said sharply, "Don,
remember you need Ross! You need all of us! Without all of us there can
be no more serum."

The blows stopped.

"There will be no more serum anyway," Braun said shakily. The thin
little man still stood before his chair having moved not at all since
the act