ea was ridiculous.

But, then, what wasn't?

The minutes ticked slowly by. After a while the three guards came
back, opening the door and filing into the room carefully. Malone,
feeling more than ever like something in a cocoon, watched them with
interest. They shut the door carefully behind them and stood before
him.

"Now, then," one of them said. "We're going to take the jacket off, if
you promise to be a good boy."

"Sure," Malone said. "And when you take my clothing, look in the
pockets."

"The pockets?"

"To find my FBI identification," Malone said wearily. He only half-
believed the idea himself, but half a belief, he told himself
confusedly, was better than no mind at all. The attendants nodded
solemnly.

"Sure we will," one of them said, "if you're a good boy and don't act
up rough on us now. Okay?"

Malone nodded. Carefully, two of the attendants began to unbuckle him
while the third stood by for reinforcements. Malone made no fuss.

In five minutes he was naked as--he told himself--a jay-bird. What
was so completely nude about those particular birds escaped him for
the moment, but it wasn't important. The three men were all holding
various parts of the strait-jacket or of his clothing.

They were still watching him warily.

"Look in the pockets," Malone said.

"Sure," one said. The man holding the jacket reached into it and
dropped it as if it were hot.

"Hey," he announced in a sick voice, "the guy's carrying a gun."

"A gun?" the second one asked.

The first one gestured toward the crumpled jacket on the floor. "Look
for yourself," he said. "A real honest-to-God gun. I could feel it."

Malone leaned against one wall, looking as nonchalant as it was
possible for him to look in the nude. The room being cool, he felt he
was succeeding reasonably well. "Try the other pocket," he suggested.

The first attendant gave him a long stare. "What've you got in there,
buddy?" he asked. "A howitzer?"

"Jesus," the second attendant said, without moving toward the jacket.
"An armed nut. What a world."

"Try the pocket," Malone said.

A second went by. The first attendant bent down slowly, picked up the
jacket and slipped his hand into the other inside pocket. He came out
with a wallet and flipped it open.

The others looked over his shoulder.

There was a long minute of silence.

"Jesus," the second attendant said, as if it were the only word left
in the language.

Malone sighed. "There, n