ot a laboratory all fixed
up with your things. Let's go. Ah, Ross, old pal, I'm carrying heat, as
Larry would say, so let's don't have any trouble, eh?"

He had been as good as his word in regards to the laboratory. It was
obviously one of the rooms used by the staff when the place had been a
sanitarium. Now, each of the three had all the equipment and supplies
they required.

Crowley took a seat at the far end of the room, facing them. There had
been a guard outside the door when they entered and a call would bring
him in seconds. Even so, Crowley sat in such wise that his right hand
was ready to plunge inside his coat to the gun that evidently was
holstered there. He said, "O.K., folks, let's get about it."

* * *

It took them half an hour or so to sort out those materials each needed
in his own contribution to the end product.

Their captor looked at his watch impatiently. "Let's get a move on,
here. I thought this was going to take a few minutes."

Patricia said testily, "What's the hurry, Don?"

He grinned at her. "Tonight's the big night. This evening, just before
closing, I walk into.... Well, you don't have to know the name. Like I
said, it'll make the Brinks job look like peanuts. They lock up the
place and leave, see? O.K., about two o'clock in the morning, when the
city's dead, Larry and the boys drive up into an alley, behind. I go
around, one by one, and sock the four guards on the back of the head.
Then I open up for Larry and they take their time and clear the place
out. From then on, we got all the dough we need to start pyramiding it
up on the Stock Exchange and like that."

Patricia had drawn on rubber gloves, pulled a lab apron around her. She
began reaching for test tubes, measuring devices. She murmured softly,
"What keeps you from telling yourself you're nothing but a crook, Don?
When we first met you--it seems a terribly long time ago, back there in
Far Cry--you didn't seem to be such a bad egg."

"We didn't know, then, he was a cracked egg," Ross muttered. He looked
to where Crowley slouched, his eyes narrow as though considering his
chances of rushing the other. Crowley grinned and shook his head. "Don't
try it, Buster."

Crowley looked at Patricia. "You don't get it, sister. It's like
somebody or other said. The ends, uh, justify the means. That means...."

"I know what it means," Patricia said impatiently.

Dr. Braun, who rather hopelessly was also beginning t