“I’m right with you, Max!”
Running as fast as he could move, Max led the way around the blacksmith shop, then through the watering trough—which, fortunately, was dry—then around the general store, then into the jail and into a cell.
“Max, that window has bars on it,” 99 pointed out.
“You’re right, 99. Back the other way.”
They whipped around and ran in the other direction. But not far. Two feet later they crashed into the closed and locked cell door. On the other side, facing them, was Arbuthnot.
“Max! What happened!” 99 wailed.
“Evidently we took a left when we should have taken a right,” Max replied. “It could happen to anybody, 99. I’ve never jogged in this town before.” He looked puzzledly at Arbuthnot. “But how did you know you’d find us here?” he asked.
“It had to happen,” Arbuthnot replied. “When I saw you jogging through the watering trough, I said to myself, ‘Anybody with a brain like that, he’s going to trap himself in a cell over in the jail house.’ So, I just trotted over here, and here you were.”
“You have a very frank way of putting things,” Max told him. “You’d make somebody a terrible wife.”
“I’m sorry I can’t stay,” Arbuthnot said, leaving. “But old jails are usually crawling with germs.” He went out the doorway, then closed the door behind him.
“Locked in with all these germs,” Max muttered.
99 went back to the window. “I can see the hotel from here, Max,” she reported. “There’s Arbuthnot. He’s going inside.”
“99 . . .”
She turned toward him. “Yes, Max?”
Max pointed to the cot, the only item of furniture in the cell. “It just moved,” he said.
“Max . . . you’re imagining . . .”
“I tell you, it just— See that! It did it again!”
“Yes! I saw it, too!” 99 said, staring wide-eyed at the cot. “Max, do you think the cell is haunt—” She suddenly brightened. “Max, of course! It’s probably the old prospector! We can’t see him because he’s disappeared! But he’s here! He’s here with us!”
“A lot of good that does,” Max said.
“I guess you’re right,” 99 agreed gloomily. She went back to the window. “Look, Max,” she said. “One of the KAOS assassins just came out of the hotel and he’s carrying a tray of food and heading this way.”
Max joined her at the window. “Arbuthnot probably sent him to feed us,” he said. “We wouldn’t be very valuable as hostages if we starved to death. Listen, 99, when that assassin gets here, let’s try to lure him into the cell. Then we can overpower him and escape.”
“We can try,” 99 said. “He probably won’t even speak to us, though.”
“99, don’t judge all KAOS assassins by Arbuthnot,” Max said reprovingly. “That’s not fair. Frankly, in general, I’ve found most KAOS assassins to be genial, friendly, polite and genuinely interested in other people’s welfare—assuming, of course, that those other people aren’t marked for assassination.”
“Maybe so, Max, but—”
At that moment, the jail door opened, and the KAOS assassin, a young, blond, smiling young man, entered, carrying a tray of food. “Hi y’all,” he grinned, moving to the cell door. “The boss man told me to tote you over some victuals. He figures you must have a powerful hunger by now.” He frowned, looking into the cell. “Why, that’s a terrible place in there,” he said. “You got no carpet on the floor, the whole shebang needs a new coat of paint, that window hasn’t got nary a curtain on it, and that—” He shook his head in sorrow. “It’s too terrible even to talk about. Say, how’d you like to have some new furnishings? Maybe a couple nice comfy overstuffed chairs and some nice reading lamps and—” He got a key from his pocket. “Hold it a minute—I’ll come in there, and we’ll plan on what we can do to redecorate the place.”
“See how nice they can be,” Max said to 99, as the KAOS assassin opened the door and then entered the cell. “Now, aren’t you ashamed of yourself for thinking what you were thinking?”
“I suppose so, Max,” 99 nodded. Then she whispered, “Don’t forget . . . we’re going to over—”
“If you’ll just step aside there, ma’am,” the assassin said to 99, interrupting her, “I’ll put this tray down on that cot, then we can put our minds to what we’re going to do to dandy this li’l ol’ cell up a bit.” He pointed to the area behind Max. “Now, that whole wall has just got to come out!” he said. “Why, there’s not enough room in here to thread a needle. We’ll join that cell next door with this cell, and then we’ll build both up and down. I mean, the roof is just crying out for a couple dormers. We can get two bedrooms up there. And a recreation room in the basement, of course.” He pointed in another direction. “That window is almost down on its knees, pleading for organdy,” he said. “Can’t you just see it?”
“Now, just a minute!” Max said crisply. “I’ll go along with the two bedrooms and the rec room. But you’ll put organdy on that window over my dead body!”
The young KAOS assassin drew a pistol. “Now, you’re talking my language,” he said.
“Organdy on the window.”
“Max!” 99 whispered. “Overpower!”
“99 is right,” Max said to the KAOS assassin, “organdy would be too overpowering. Even if you doubled the space by knocking out that wall and joining the two cells. But, what we could do—” He motioned to 99. “99, will you step back, please— What we could do,” he continued, addressing the young man again, “is knock out this front wall, too, and add what is now the jail house office to the cell. That would give us depth, you see, in addition to width.”
The young man was shaking his head. “Guests would walk right into the cell,” he said. “You don’t want that. Did you see all that dust out there? What do you think it turns to when it rains?” He shuddered. “Mud! A sea of mud! You want that gooey, slimy, dirty old mud tracked in here?”
“You’re right,” Max said, pained.
“With organdy curtains, though, nobody might notice the mud,” the young man said. “That’s the choice, as I see it—it’s either bare windows with, or organdy windows without, or a combination of the both. You think about it. And when I come back with your lunch, you tell me what you decided.”
“Fine, line, that sounds fair,” Max said. “I only hope—”
“Max!” 99 said grimly. “The plan!”
“It’s too soon for a plan, 99. We don’t know yet whether we want the windows bare or with— Oh! Oh, that plan!” He turned back to the young KAOS assassin. “Don’t rush off,” he said. “Why don’t you put down your pistol and rest a while. That’s hard work carrying that tray across the street from the hotel. Stay and have breakfast with us.”
“Say, that’s neighborly of you,” the young man smiled. “I already et once, but I guess another—” He was staring baffledly at the tray. “Where’d the food go?” he asked.
Max and 99 peered at the tray, too. The dishes were now completely empty.
“We must have mice,” Max said.
“No mice et all that!” the young man said. He looked around suspiciously. “Who else is in here? You got a stowaway in this cell?”
“Now, does that make sense?” Max replied. “Why would anybody stow away in this cell? It isn’t going anyplace.”
“Yeah . . . I guess you’re right about that,” the young assassin said. “Well . . . maybe it was a mice that et that food. I don’t know . . . I don’t like the looks of it, though.”
“All right, then, sit down and we’ll talk it out and try to find an explanation that suits you,” Max said. “Sit right there on the edge of the cot with your back to us and—”
The young man backed toward the cell door. “No, I got to be going,” he said. “We’re having our seminar meeting over to the bank today, and I don’t want to miss any of it. Arbuthnot’s going to coach us on combining safe-cracking and assassinating all in one. If y
ou don’t know just how, you can get yourself into some bad trouble. We had a fellow in KAOS once who tried it and what he did was, he locked his victim in the safe instead of assassinating him and then he couldn’t crack the safe to get in and get at him. He got so frustrated they finally had to send him to a rest farm.”
“That’s terrible,” Max said sympathetically.
“You think that’s bad? The victim ended up even worse. He’s still locked in the safe. And that was back in the winter of ’61.”
“That was a big winter for strange occurrences,” Max said.
The young man saluted with the pistol. “Well, you think about what you want to do with that window, and I’ll be back—”
He did not finish the statement. All of a sudden, he shot straight up into the air. His head cracked against the ceiling of the cell, then he became limp, unconscious. Looking under the young man, Max and 99 saw the cause of his sudden accident. Madame DuBarry, the mule, had materialized beneath him, thrusting him suddenly upward. The young man, knocked senseless, was now seated on the mule’s back.
“What timing!” Max said admiringly. “If you’d been ten seconds later, he’d have got away.” He picked up the pistol that had dropped to the floor when the young man had abruptly lost consciousness. “I even forgive you for eating all the food,” he said to Madame DuBarry. “Or was that you who ate it? Is your master, the old prospector, around anywhere?”
“Max, you’ll never get anything out of that mule,” 99 said. “Forget about him. Let’s get out of here. Since the KAOS assassins will be at the bank, that will give us time to search the saloon and find the Coolidge-head penny.”
“You’re right, 99! Let’s go!”
“Max . . . what about the young man?”
“He’s very nice, 99. He has a lot of personality. But I really don’t think he’ll help us find that penny. Once a KAOS assassin, always a KAOS assassin. He’s on the other side.”
“I mean we can’t just leave him here like this—sitting on a mule. He’ll regain consciousness and get down off the mule and tell Arbuthnot that we’ve escaped.”
“Right!”
Max pulled the young man down off the mule’s back and put him on the cot. Then he took the key from him. “Outside,” he said to 99 and Madame DuBarry. When they were all on the other side of the cell door, Max locked it. “Anything else?” he said to 99.
She shook her head. “Perfect, Max.”
“Good. Now, up on the mule, 99.”
“Up on the mule, Max?”
“Trust me, 99.”
“Max, I do trust you. But it seems to me that if I can trust you, then you ought to be just as willing to explain to me.”
“I can see the fairness of that,” Max nodded. “What I have in mind, you see, 99, is the possibility that Arbuthnot will miss this young assassin when he doesn’t return. If that happens, he’ll probably send somebody to look for him. And the somebody he sends will find out that we’ve escaped. Well, the first thing he’ll do is look for tracks. And he’ll find our tracks in the dusty street and he’ll know that we’re in the saloon. But, if we leave here on the mule, all he’ll find is the mule’s tracks. He’ll never guess that there were two Control agents on top of the mule.”
“Max, that’s brilliant!”
“Thank you for being so frank, 99. Now . . . up on the mule.”
99 got aboard Madame DuBarry. Then Max climbed up and sat behind her.
“Mush!” Max commanded, speaking to the mule.
Madame DuBarry did not move.
“That’s for sled dogs, I think, Max,” 99 said.
“I know that, 99. What I don’t know is the command for mules. So, I used the command that seemed most appropriate. And there’s no need, 99, for you to be frank and tell me there’s no connection between sled dogs and mules.”
“This doesn’t seem to be working, Max. He’s just standing.”
“Giddyap!” Max ordered.
The mule remained immobile.
“I hate to resort to violence,” Max said, “but—” He reached back and gave the mule a sound slap on the hindquarters.
Madame DuBarry snorted indignantly, then switched his tail—and disappeared.
Max and 99, deprived of their mount, crashed to the floor.
7.
MAX AND 99 picked themselves from the floor of the jail, where they had landed when Madame DuBarry, the mule, had disappeared.
“The poor thing,” 99 said. “The way he comes and goes, I guess he has no control at all over when he appears and disappears.”
Max dusted himself off. “If you want to believe that, 99, you may,” he said. “But it’s my guess that that mule knows exactly what it’s doing. Why is it that— Whooooooooops!”
Max was suddenly lifted off his feet and thrust upward. His head cracked against the ceiling. The mule had abruptly reappeared beneath him, and now he was seated precariously astride its neck.
“Max! Are you all right?” 99 cried fearfully.
“Yes . . .” Max replied, rubbing his skull, looking pained. “Don’t ask me about the mule, though. I think I would be wise, from now on, to withhold comment on all animals. Unfortunately, I seem to be able to communicate with them.”
“Well . . . at least, he’s back, Max. Now, we can follow through on your plan to ride him to the saloon. And, you’re already on his back—so, in a way, his sudden reappearance was a blessing.”
“99, stop looking at the bright side. There are times when looking at the bright side is harder to take than getting batted against the ceiling by a reappearing mule. Now, get up here with me, and— 99, what are you looking at?”
99 had gone to the doorway and opened the door a crack. She was peeping out. “I thought I caught a glimpse of movement out the window,” she replied, keeping her voice low. “It was Arbuthnot and the other assassins. They’re leaving the hotel!”
“Don’t tell me they’re coming over here!” Max said.
“No, they’re not.”
“You’re a good wife, 99. I told you not to tell me that, and you didn’t. I just wish I could get that kind of cooperation from the KAOS agents. Do you suppose if I married— No, nevermind . . . Where is Arbuthnot going?”
“They seem to be headed . . . Yes, they’re going into the bank, Max,” 99 reported.
“That fits in with what that assassin who brought our breakfast to us told us,” Max said. “The morning meeting is being held in the back. That’s perfect! It will give us plenty of time to search the saloon for the Coolidge-head penny. What’s happening now, 99?”
“The last one just entered the bank, Max. Now, the door is closing. I think it’s safe for us to leave.”
“Good. Open the door, 99, so the mule can get out. Then hop up here behind me.”
99 opened the door. Immediately, the mule began moving. He strolled through the doorway and across the porch—with 99 alongside, trying to mount.
“Hop up, 99!”
“I can’t, Max. He won’t stop.”
“Then skip!”
“I can’t do that, either.”
The mule ambled down the porch steps, then out into the street.
“Jump up, 99!”
“Max, I can’t hop up, I can’t skip up, and I can’t jump up. As long as he’s moving, there isn’t any way I can get on him.”
“But, 99, you’re leaving tracks in the dust!”
“I can’t help it, Max!”
The mule, having reached the saloon, strolled up onto the porch, then halted.
Max looked back. “99, why did you tell me you couldn’t hop, skip or jump? Look back there! Beside every mule track, there is a hop, skip and jump track.”
“Max, I didn’t say I couldn’t hop, skip or jump. I said I couldn’t hop, skip or jump up. That ‘up’ makes a lot of difference.”
Max got down from the mule. He looked back at the tracks again. “Well . . . maybe those hop, skip and jump tracks will confuse Arbuthnot,” he said. “He p
robably won’t associate them with us. Just looking at us, neither one of us looks like a hopper, skipper and jumper. He’ll probably think the mule was accompanied by a drunken jack rabbit.”
“We better not stand out here on the porch, Max.”
Max nodded agreement, then led the way into the saloon. 99 and the mule followed.
Max pointed to a crack in the floor near the bar. “There!” he said. “That’s the crack the Coolidge-head penny dropped through. I’ll remember that crack as long as I live.”
“Max . . . are you positive that’s the crack?” 99 said doubtfully. “I seem to remember that the crack was over here near the tables.” She pointed. “Weren’t you standing right here by this table, and didn’t the penny roll just a few feet and drop down this crack . . . uh, right over here?”
“99, the crack the penny dropped down is etched in my memory. It was that crack right over there.”
“That isn’t the crack you pointed to first, Max. That crack is almost ten feet from the first crack.”
“In the meantime, I changed my mind,” Max explained. “I had the actual crack confused with the first crack because the first crack, as you can see, has the same sort of look as the— Well, of course, it doesn’t look exactly like the actual crack. But the similarity is—” He frowned and peered at the crack that 99 had indicated. “You really think it was this crack over here by the tables, eh?”
“Well, Max . . . now that you mention it . . . I mean, if you’re so positive that it was one of those cracks over there by the bar, then maybe I’m wrong. After all—”
“99, don’t give up so easily,” Max said. “Stick to your convictions. If you’re absolutely positive that this crack over here is the right crack, then don’t let me talk you out of it.”
“I’m just not so sure, any more, Max. In fact, now that I recall, I think you’re right—it dropped through that crack over there by the bar.”
“99, I’m afraid you’re wrong. I distinctly remember that the crack was near one of these tables. I said to myself at the time, ‘Well, what an attractive-looking table that coin is dropping into a crack near to.’ Now, I’m not sure exactly which crack by which table it was, but the one thing I do know is that the crack it dropped into was nowhere near the bar.”
Get Smart 9 - Max Smart and the Ghastly Ghost Affair Page 8