the bench, and rubbed his hair
with the towel. He hoped they all went batty trying to learn how he had
escaped. He thought most of the attendants should be patients anyhow.

Clutching a pile of clothing and a pair of slippers, Nasen returned.
"Put these on," he said. "Orville Potts, you're in trouble now. What did
you do with the key?"

Potts struggled into a tight blue shirt minus most of the buttons. "I
didn't have a key."

"You're _talking_?"

"I can talk when I want to," Potts admitted. "I just never want to."

Nasen said, "That's more words than I've heard from you all at one time.
Why did you come back stark naked like that?"

"I thought my way out," Potts explained, pulling on the trousers that
had evidently been tailored for a giant.

"Oh, you thought your way out. Put those slippers on."

Joe and Wilhart, flushed and panting, charged into the shower room.

"There he is! Grab him!" Joe yelled. He seized Potts' arms and pulled
them behind in a brutal double hammerlock.

"He's not giving any trouble," Nasen said. "What happened, Joe?"

"Damn if I know. He was in the shower, and I turned my head for a
second. Next thing I knew, he was gone. What'd you find on him--a key or
a lock-pick or something like that?"

Nasen grinned. "He didn't have even that much on when I first saw him.
He came into the day room and sat down, and Miss Davis like to threw a
fit."

Wilhart tossed a bundle on the floor. "There's nothing in his own
clothes but a pack of cigarettes."

"Where's the key, Orville Potts?" Joe grated, squeezing Potts's arms.
"You know what's going to happen to you? You'll get the pack room, or
maybe Ward D. How would you like Ward D, Orville Potts?"

Nasen said, "If he had a key, he--"

"You better run along, Nasen," Joe said. "I think Dr. Bean wants to talk
to you."

"Well, I--uh--" Looking worried, Nasen left the shower room.

Wilhart handed Joe a towel.

"Leave me alone!" Potts yelled.

Joe wrapped the towel around Potts's neck. "Where's the key, Orville
Potts?"

"Help!" Potts cried. The towel tightened.

With rapidly dimming vision, he saw Wilhart assume a stance. A huge fist
thudded against his shrunken stomach. He tried to scream, but the towel
cut off all air and sound. Again and again, the fist struck.

Potts found himself sitting on the floor, gulping air into starved
lungs. For a moment, he hoped he had managed another transportation, but
the two white-clad human gorillas le