“May I see your tickets, sir?” the porter said.
Max handed him the tickets. “That’s for a round-trip one-way,” he said.
“Yes, sir, I see it is.” The porter pointed to the right-hand seat. “The lady sits here,” he said. He pointed to the left-hand seat. “And the gentleman sits here.”
“Why is that?” Max asked. “Why can’t we sit in any seat we want to?”
“You got a round-trip ticket, sir,” the porter explained. “One seat is the ‘going’ seat and the other seat is the ‘coming’ seat. You sit in the ‘going’ seat, and the lady sits in the ‘coming’ seat.”
“I’m sorry I asked,” Max replied. “All right, porter. Thank you for your help. I’ll call you if I need you.”
The porter backed out and closed the door.
“He looked familiar to me, Max,” Peaches said.
“I don’t wonder. He looked like a typical pullman porter.”
“Yes, I suppose that was it.”
Max went to the window and raised the shade-and found himself face-to-face with Agent 44.
“Good to see you again,” Max said. “Unless, of course, you’re Noman masquerading as Agent 44.”
Agent 44 made signals, indicating that he could not hear Max through the window.
“I said, ‘Good to see you again’!” Max shouted.
“Why don’t you open the window, Max?” Peaches suggested.
“Because train windows do not open.”
Peaches went to the window, touched a finger to the bottom of the frame, and raised the window easily.
“Let me put it another way,” Max said. “ Normally, train windows do not open.” He turned back to Agent 44. “Good to see you again,” he said. “Assuming, of course, that you’re not Noman.”
“I don’t think I am,” 44 answered. “What does he look like?”
“If he’s in a public locker, he looks like you,” Max said.
“Ask him if he has my list of romantic things to do,” Peaches said. “If he does, he’s Noman. If he doesn’t, he’s 44.”
“I’ll try that,” Max said. He turned back to Agent 44.
“I don’t have it,” 44 said.
Max turned back to Peaches.
“Then he’s 44,” she said.
Max turned back to Agent 44. But he was gone.
“I felt a little left out of that conversation there at the end,” Max said, closing the window.
“Shhh!” Peaches said. “I’m trying to remember what I had on my list of romantic things to do.”
“You were going to dunk Al Capone in a fountain, I remember that,” Max said.
“That doesn’t sound romantic.”
“It does to me. But then, all fountains sound romantic to me,” Max said.
“Candlelight-I remember that,” Peaches said.
“Yes, and-” Max interrupted himself. “Wait a minute! Hear that?”
Peaches cocked an ear. “What?”
“Listen.”
Then Peaches heard the sound, too. It went: “Choo-Choo-Choo!”
“We’re on our way!” Max said happily. “New York-here we come!”
William Johnston
Get Smart 3 — Get Smart Once Again!
8
A S THE train moved slowly out of the terminal, Max sat down in his seat and removed his shoe. “Time to check in,” he said. “The Chief will be glad to hear that we’re finally on our way.”
“Ask him if he knows of any romantic things to do,” Peaches said.
“Sorry,” Max said, dialing. “This is a business phone.”
Operator: Sorry, sir, this is impossible.
Max: Impossible, Operator? What’s impossible?
Operator: You’re calling from a compartment on a train, sir. That can’t be done.
Max: Operator, this is official business. Couldn’t you make an exception?
Operator: Well… just this once. If you promise you won’t do it again.
Max: I promise. Now, please, connect me with Control.
Operator: Yes, sir. Here is your number, sir.
Chief: Control, here.
Max: Is that you, Chief?
Chief: Da.
Max: Da, Chief?
Chief: That’s Russian for ‘yes,’ Max. I assume you’re calling from Moscow.
Max: Well, no, not exactly, Chief. We’re a little short of that mark.
Chief: From New York, then?
Max: We’re a wee bit short of that mark, too, Chief.
Chief: Miami, Florida?
Max: That’s in the other direction, Chief.
Chief: Baltimore, Maryland?
Max: You’re getting warmer, Chief. Try Washington, D.C.
Chief: Max! You haven’t even left town yet?
Max: Chief, it isn’t because we haven’t tried. We’ve tried it by plane, and we’ve tried it by car. Now, we’re trying it by train.
Chief: I see. You’re taking a train to New York. Is that right?
Max: No, Chief, the train is taking us to New York. You see, we’re in a compartment, and the train is on the tracks.
Chief: You didn’t have to tell me that. I know how a train goes.
Max (smiling smugly): How does a train go, Chief? There’s a very funny answer to that. Want to hear it?
Chief: I don’t have to hear it, Max. I know how a train goes. It goes: Choo-Choo-Choo! I can hear it over your shoe.
Operator (breaking in): So that’s how you’re doing it, is it? — talking on a shoe. I knew we didn’t have any telephones in any train compartments.
Max: All right, now you know. Will you please get off the line, Operator? This is a private conversation.
Operator: Is that your shoe or our shoe?
Max: It’s my shoe.
Chief: Sorry to dispute you, Max. But, actually, that isn’t your shoe. We lease that shoe from the Telephone Company.
Max: Maybe so. But I keep it under my bed. That should give me some rights.
Operator: It’s our shoe, so I can listen to your conversation.
Max: Chief, couldn’t you arrange to buy this shoe from the Telephone Company?
Chief: They won’t sell, Max.
Max: Why not?
Chief: They don’t want to break up a pair.
Max: Oh. Well… I can understand that.
Chief: Max, has Peaches broken the code yet?
Max: I’m afraid Peaches has lost interest in the code, Chief. Our hard-hearted Hannah has turned into a soft-headed Susie. If you know what I mean.
Chief: No, Max, I don’t know what you mean.
Operator: Me, neither.
Max: Well, folks, what I mean is, our Peaches has gone soft. She thinks we’re doomed, and she wants to live a little before she goes. Her only interest at the moment is Romance.
Operator: With a capital ‘R’? Good for her.
Chief: Well, I guess you’ll just have to make the best of it, Max. Try breaking the code yourself.
Max: I’m one step ahead of you, Chief.
Operator: In our shoe? Watch where you step in that shoe.
Max: As I was saying, Chief, I’m already at work on the code. Do you see any connection between Papa Bear and Dooms Day?
Chief: No, I don’t, Max. How did you arrive at Papa Bear?
Max: It wasn’t easy. I started with money. That gave me Goldilocks. And Goldilocks suggested Papa Bear.
Operator: Why Papa Bear? Why not all three of the bears?
Max: Because Noman is a male. And Papa Bear is a male.
Operator: Maybe Baby Bear was a male, too. I think you picked the wrong bear.
Max: You may be right, Operator. Let’s see… Baby Bear. Or, if you turn that around, you get Bear Baby. Or, to put it another way, bare baby. And all newly-born babies are bare. So, what we’re looking for is-no, I don’t think that’s it.
Chief: Max, keep working on it. I know you’ll come up with something. And… keep in touch.
Operator: Don’t encoura
ge him to make a lot of calls, Chief. We don’t want him to wear out our shoe.
Chief: Good-by, Max.
Max: So long, Chief.
Operator: Keep your laces tight, Max.
Max put his shoe back on.
“That was the Chief,” he said to Peaches. “And the Operator,” he added.
“Shhh! I’m thinking.”
Max looked out the window. “Well, we’re on our way,” he said. “We’ve left the station.”
“Will you stop bothering me with trifling little details,” Peaches said. “I’m trying to-”
She was interrupted as the door of the compartment opened and the porter stepped in. He was holding a gun. And he quickly closed the door behind him.
“If you’re peddling guns, we don’t want any,” Max said, annoyed.
“Max!” Peaches shrieked. “It’s Noman!”
Noman smiled. “I would have been around sooner,” he said, “but I didn’t want to interrupt while you were on the shoe.”
“A fellow with good shoe manners can’t be all bad,” Max said. “Noman, let’s make a deal. Let me keep the Dooms Day Plan, and I’ll try to talk the Chief into giving you a job at Control. There are a lot of benefits connected with being on the side of the Good Guys.”
“Like what?” Noman asked.
“Peace of mind.”
“At KAOS we get three weeks vacation after twelve years.”
“Well, at Control we get a sense of accomplishment.”
“We get time-and-a-half for overtime. And overtime is any time after we sight our victim.”
“We have a friendly atmosphere,” Max responded.
“Our cafeteria serves chocolate sauce on the ice cream,” Noman said. “Even on the chocolate ice cream.”
“Well, I can’t match that,” Max admitted. “I guess you’ll just have to go your way, and I’ll go mine.” He stepped toward the door. “Excuse me-I’ll go mine.”
Noman pressed the pistol against his abdomen. “You can go your way,” he said, “but you’ll go feet first if you don’t hand over that Plan.”
Max backed away. “I can’t give you the Plan,” he said. “If I did, you’d rush out that door with it, and I’d never see it again.”
Noman smiled craftily. “Suppose I promised not to rush out the door with it?”
Max considered. “That throws a different light on the situation,” he said. “But how do I know I can trust you?”
“How do I know I can trust you?” Noman replied. “I’m taking as big a chance as you are. But I’m willing. I guess it’s a matter of basic character-you either trust people or you don’t.”
“You put me to shame,” Max said. “I’m sorry I doubted you.”
“Then it’s a deal?”
“Right. I’ll hand over the Plan. And you’ll promise not to rush out the door with it.”
“Shake,” Noman said.
They shook hands, then Max reached into his pocket and pulled out the Plan and handed it over to Noman. “A promise is a promise,” he reminded him.
Noman grinned evilly, taking the Plan. “Right,” he said. “But I didn’t promise not to jump out the window!”
Max looked disappointed. “Once a KAOS agent, always a KAOS agent,” he said.
Holding the gun on Max, Noman moved around to the window. With his back to it, he opened it.
“So long, sucker!” he laughed derisively.
“Happy landing,” Max said.
Noman threw himself backward through the opening and disappeared.
A second later a face appeared-the face of Agent 44.
“Good work, 44,” Max said. “You snatched the Plan from him as he hurtled past, of course.”
“The Plan and something else,” 44 said, handing in two sheets of paper.
“My list!” Peaches cried happily, leaping up.
Max accepted the two sheets of paper from 44 and handed one of them to Peaches.
“This isn’t my list!” she said angrily, throwing the sheet of paper to the floor.
“Here!” Max said, giving her the other sheet of paper. “That one is the Plan,” he said, picking it up.
“How could you mistake my lovely list for your horrid old Plan!” Peaches exclaimed, hugging her list to her bosom. “They should have named you Max Dumb.”
Max turned back to Agent 44. “Thanks again,” he said. “I’ll see you around.”
Agent 44 disappeared.
Max faced back to Peaches. “Did you notice how I maneuvered Noman into using the window-where I knew 44 would be waiting?” he said. “What was so dumb about that?”
“He’s just dumber than you are,” Peaches grumbled. “He should have been named Nobody.”
“Well, he’s Nowhere now.”
“Want to bet?” Peaches said. “I’ll bet he’s back on the train right now. And I’ll bet he’ll be back here with his gun before you can say ‘Jack Robinson.’ ”
“Jack Robinson!” Max snapped. He looked around. “Ha! He’s not here. You lose.”
“I’ll still bet he’s back on the train.”
“That bet I won’t take,” Max said. “And, just to make sure he won’t find us here when he comes back, I think we’d better go to the lounge car. If we surround ourselves with loungers, he won’t dare try anything.”
Peaches leaped up again, excited. “Isn’t that where the romantic strangers are?”
“There may be one or two,” Max replied. “However, I think you’ll probably find more stationery salesmen than romantic strangers.”
“I’ll chance it,” Peaches said. “Let’s go.”
Peaches led the way this time, and Max had to trot to keep up with her. When they reached the lounge, where a number of passengers were seated in lounge chairs, Peaches rushed forward and addressed the first man she came to.
“Are you a stationery salesman?” she asked.
“No, I’m a traveling salesman,” he replied. “I move around quite a bit.”
“I don’t mean stationary like standing still,” she said, “I mean stationery like writing letters.”
“I write home-to the wife and kiddies,” the man replied.
“Then you’re not a romantic stranger,” Peaches said disappointedly.
At that moment, Max caught up with her. “Try that fellow down there,” he said, pointing.
“Where?”
“At the other end of the car,” Max said. “That pleasingly plump fellow who looks like a typical romantic stranger.”
“Oh, him! Yes, he does look typical,” Peaches said.
She rushed off, headed for the far end of the car, and Max tagged after her.
When she reached the man, Peaches dropped into the vacant seat next to him. The man was reading a newspaper. But Peaches dug him in the ribs with an elbow, then, when he looked up, she fluttered her eyelashes at him.
“Hello, there!” the man beamed.
“I don’t speak to strangers,” Peaches replied.
“Oh. I thought that dig in the ribs was an introduction.”
“That was a slip of the elbow-purely unintentional,” Peaches said. “But, if you want to introduce yourself, then we’d be introduced.”
The romantic stranger smiled romantically. “You can just call me The Romantic Stranger,” he said. “Or, TRS, for short.”
At that moment, Max arrived. “Excuse me,” he said to the man. “May I sit on the other side of you? You see, I’m sort of responsible for this young lady.”
“Welcome, welcome,” TRS said.
But Peaches wasn’t exactly pleased. “Max, why don’t you go up to the engine?” she asked. “The engineer may need your help to get the train to New York. He may not know the way.”
“What could I tell him? Except, ‘Follow the tracks.’ ”
“You could run ahead and show him the way,” Peaches said.
Max sat down in the empty seat. “No, I think I’ll just stay here and see what I can do about this code.”
�
�You have a code?” TRS said. “I suggest that you take a couple aspirins, drink lots of water, and get lots of rest.”
“Code,” Max replied. “Not cold.”
“Oh-code.” TRS seemed interested. “Like secret code?”
“I can’t answer that,” Max replied. “It’s top secret.”
“Just keep it that way,” Peaches said to Max. “We don’t want to hear anything more about it.” She smiled at TRS. “I suppose you have a lot of outrageous lies you’d like to tell me,” she said.
“You mean, things like, ‘You’re gorgeous, you’re beautiful, and we were meant for each other’?”
“No, lies,” she replied. “Things like-”
“The Three Bears have stuffed Goldilocks into a Trojan horse,” Max mused.
“That sounds like a lie to me, all right,” TRS said.
“Max, will you keep out of our conversation!” Peaches complained.
“I didn’t know I was in it,” Max said. “I was simply working on the code.”
“Perhaps I could help you,” TRS said.
“You’re with me!” Peaches snapped at him. “Now, tell me some outrageous lies or I’ll-”
“Blow up the world with three bombs planted in a watch,” Max said.
TRS turned to Peaches. “You’d do that?”
“He said that-I didn’t.”
TRS faced back to Max. “You’d do that?”
“Not me,” Max said. “But somebody would.” He showed the Plan to TRS. “See this? This is a Dooms Day Plan. But it’s in code. We won’t know exactly what it means until we break the code.”
TRS started to reach for the Plan. But Peaches reached first and pushed it away. “You don’t want to look at that,” she said. She showed him her list. “Look at this. This is really interesting. See that? Trip to Bermuda. Candlelight. Three coins in the fountain.”
“Yes, I see,” TRS said. “It’s also in code, eh?”
“No, no, these are my romantic things to do.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him again. “But it wouldn’t be much fun doing these things alone. Do you have any suggestions?”
“I do,” Max said. “Do you have a maiden aunt you could take along with you? You’ll need a chaperone.”
“Nobody asked you!”
“If I waited to be asked,” Max replied, “I’d never get to say anything.”
“Speaking of three coins in the fountain,” TRS said, “could I see that Plan again?”
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