ax evidently had. He moved so swiftly that everyone was too surprised
to stop him. He burst into the small human-walled arena where the two
bewildered monsters squatted and he thrust little Jimsy LaRoche out
before him--right at the monsters.

An extraordinary thing happened. The monsters suddenly began to quiver
and squeak again but this time--it was clear to the ear somehow--not
with rage, but with _fear_. Pure and terrible fear. They trained their
eye-stalks on Jimsy LaRoche, they paled to a lighter shade of brown
and green, then slowly they began to back away.

"Hold your fire, men!" called a police captain, probably just to get
into the act.

Dr. Mildume appeared again from somewhere. So did Etienne Flaubert. So
did Eddie Tamoto and some of the other technicians. They gaped and
stared.

Slowly, inexorably, using Jimsy LaRoche as his threat, Mr. Untz backed
the two monsters into the studio, and gradually to the cage. Dr.
Mildume leaped forward to shut them in once more.

And through it all Jimsy LaRoche continued to bawl at the top of his
lungs.

* * * * *

Later, in Mr. Untz's office-cottage, Harold read the newspaper
accounts. He read every word while Mr. Untz was in the other room
taking a shower. He had to admit that Max had even thrown a little
credit his way. "My assistant, Mr. Potter," Untz was quoted as saying,
"indirectly gave me the idea when he said that one man's meat was
another man's poison.

"Dr. Mildume had already explained that the monsters came from a
high-gravity planet--that the smaller of the species evidently seemed
the more capable, and therefore the dominant one." Harold was sure now
that the statement had been polished up a bit by the publicity
department.

"The only logical assumption, then," the statement continued, "was
that small stature would dominate these life forms, rather than large
stature, as in the environment we know. They were, in other words,
terrified by tiny Jimsy LaRoche--whose latest picture, 'The Atomic
Fissionist and the Waif,' is now at your local theatre, by the way--as
an Earth-being might have been terrified by a giant!"

Mr. Untz came out of the shower at that point. He was radiant in a
canary-colored rayon sharkskin. He was rubbing his hands. He was
beaming.

"Harold," he said, "they're putting me on a musical next. I got them
twined around my little finger. Life is good. I think that screwy Dr.
Mildume was smart to s