oat-like person.

"Yes?" said Harold.

"Mildume," said the goat-like person. "Dr. John Mildume. Don't ask a
lot of questions about how I got in. Had a hard enough time as it was.
Fortunately I have several relatives connected with the studio. That's
how I heard of your problem as a matter of fact."

"My problem?" said Harold.

Dr. Mildume pushed right in. He was no more than five feet five but
had a normal sized head. It was domelike. Wisps of tarnished white
hair curled about his ears and crown. He had an out-thrust underjaw
with a small white beard on its prow. He was dressed in moderately
shabby tweeds. He moved across the room in an energetic hopping walk
and took the place on the sofa Harold had vacated.

"Now, then, Mr. Untz," he said, "the first thing we must do is come to
terms."

"Just a minute," said Harold. "I'm Mr. Untz's assistant, Harold
Potter. Mr. Untz is in the shower. Was he expecting you?"

Dr. Mildume blinked. "No, not exactly. But he can't afford _not_ to
see me. I know all about it."

"All about what?" asked Harold.

"The beasts," the doctor said.

"The _which_?"

"Beasts, Potter," snapped the goat-like man. "The nightmare monsters.
Get with it, lad. And what is a dream sequence without them? Ha!"

"Uh--yes," said Harold a little uncertainly.

Mildume's finger shot out. "You fellows understand that I'm no
dreamy-eyed impractical scientist. Let's face it--it takes money to
carry on experiments like mine. Good old-fashioned money. I'll need at
least ten thousand dollars."

Harold raised his eyebrows. "Just what, Dr. Mildume, do you propose to
give us for ten thousand dollars?"

"Beasts," said Mildume. "_Real_ monsters."

"I beg your pardon?" said Harold. He began to work out strategies in
his mind. Maybe he could casually walk over to the phone and pick it
up quickly and call the studio police. Maybe he could get the jump on
this madman before he pulled a knife. The thing to do was to humor him
meanwhile....

Dr. Mildume said, "I will not deal with underlings. I demand to see
Mr. Untz himself."

"Well," said Harold, "you understand that Mr. Untz is a busy man. It's
my job to check propositions people have for him. Suppose you tell me
about these beasts of yours."

Mildume shrugged. "Doubt if you'll understand it any better than Untz
will. But it's no more complicated than television when you boil it
right down. You're familiar, I take it, with the basic principle of
televis