Get Smart 8 - Max Smart Loses Control

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Get Smart 8 - Max Smart Loses Control Page 6

by William Johnston


  “You’re absolutely right, 99.” Max replied. “And I’ll get to it just as soon as I hit that jackpot. First things first, you know. What good would it do to save the entire civilized world from the domination of KAOS and, meanwhile, miss out on a jackpot?” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I think I’ve got it, 99. My problem is, I need money—right? And when you need money, what do you do? You go where the money is—right? And where is the money these days?”

  “Fort Knox, Max?”

  “No, 99. Las Vegas.”

  “Max . . . you’re in Las Vegas.”

  “There you are—see what a brilliant plan it is? I haven’t even started yet, and already the plan is clicking like clockwork.”

  “You haven’t told me the plan, Max.”

  “Oh. Well, the plan is, 99, I’m going to hold up Las Vegas.”

  “Maaax!”

  “Sh!-sh!-sh! Do you want everybody in town to know, 99? This is supposed to be a surprise holdup!”

  “Max, in the first place, for heaven’s sake, that’s against the law. And, in the second place—everybody? How could you possibly hold up everybody at once?”

  “Yell ‘stick-’em-up’ very loudly.”

  99 shook her head. “It wouldn’t work, Max.”

  “99, you haven’t heard the whole plan. Before I yell ‘stick-’em-up’ very loudly, I’m going to inundate the town with a special hypnotizing vapor. Every person in town will be immobilized and under my spell. When I yell ‘stick-’em-up,’ believe me, they’ll stick-’em-up.”

  “And then what, Max?”

  “Then, 99, I’ll go from person to person, robbing each one as I move along. It’s a cinch. Anything is possible with careful planning.”

  99 thought for a moment, then said, “Well, Max, much as I hate to admit it, it does sound like a perfect plan. But, Max, it’s wrong to rob people.”

  “99, some things are bigger than the law. There is a higher duty, you know. Just because a law is on the books, that doesn’t guarantee that it’s right or just. I ask you, 99, in all fairness, is it right to stop a man from robbing people when he has a golden opportunity to hit a jackpot?”

  “Well . . .”

  “Don’t try to talk me out of it, 99. My mind is made up. Nothing can stop me.”

  “All right, Max,” 99 said sadly. “It’s wrong, but . . . Well, I guess you don’t really realize what you’re doing. You have the fever so bad, you don’t know right from wrong anymore. I won’t try to stop you, Max.”

  “Good, 99. Now . . . do you happen to know where I can get hold of some special hypnotizing vapor?”

  99 stared at him, astounded, for a second, then shook her head.

  “Darn!” Max scowled. “That’s the one weak link in the chain. I don’t know where—” He began looking around. “Do you see a telephone booth anywhere, 99?”

  “No, Max. Who do you want to call?”

  “I don’t want to call anybody. I want to look in the yellow pages. There must be a rent-a-special-hypnotizing-vapor agency in town.”

  “Max, forget about robbing Las Vegas,” 99 begged. “Let me take you to a doctor. Maybe he can cure you.”

  “Cure me! 99, that would be insane! I’m on a winning streak.”

  “You’ve lost everything you have, Max.”

  “Ridiculous. I still have what I need most—my lucky rabbit’s foot.”

  “Well, I’m surprised you still have it.”

  “It wouldn’t fit in the slot.”

  “Max, let me—”

  There was a ringing sound.

  “What kind of a restaurant is this?” Max complained. “We haven’t had dinner yet, and already they’re sending around the Good Humor man with the dessert.”

  “That’s your phone, Max.”

  “Oh!” He looked down at his shoe. “You answer it, 99. It’s probably the Chief, and I’m not speaking to him.” He took off the shoe and handed it to 99. “If you can work it into the conversation,” he said, “you might tell him you’ve come into a large inheritance, but you can’t collect it until you get back East, and would he please send you the airfare—as a little loan, of course. Tell him you’ll pay him back the minute I hit that jackpot.”

  99: Yes, Chief . . . is that you?

  Operator: See what happens when you gamble, Max? It strains your voice. You sound like a woman.

  Chief: Operator, will you please stay off the line? This is an official call. When you listen in on the line, you are, in effect, bugging the Government.

  Operator: Tit for Tat, Chief. You think the Government don’t bug me?

  Chief: What I meant— Oh, nevermind. 99—are you still there? Where is Max?

  99: He’s here, Chief. But he refuses to speak to you. He’s upset because you refused to advance him more money. But you were right to do it, Chief. He has gambling fever. Every dollar he gets, he puts in a slot machine. I can’t stop him.

  Chief: I guessed that, 99, when I talked to him earlier. He kept telling me that lemons were coming out of his telephone.

  Operator: He may have been right, Chief. It’s the season for it you know.

  Chief: Lemons? On a telephone line?

  Operator: Chief, how do you think they get all those lemons which were grown on the West Coast, into all those stores on the East Coast?

  Chief: By train?

  Operator: Boy, are you living in the Middle Ages. They phone them.

  Chief: Operator, that’s preposterous. How can—(Deep sigh). Operator, please . . . just stay off the line.

  99: Chief, what am I going to do about Max?

  Chief: You’ll just have to leave him there, 99. I got a call just a few minutes ago from Hymie. As you know, he went to Fort Knox. When he—

  99: I know, Chief—he found Number One.

  Chief: As a matter of fact, 99, no, he didn’t. He—

  99: You mean—

  Chief: Yes. As it turned out, Max was right. Hymie—

  Operator: Hold it, Chief. You’ve got a bad connection. I thought I just heard you say that Max was right about something.

  Chief: I did! And stay off the line!

  99: Chief, hold it. We must have a bad connection. I just thought I heard the operator say she thought she heard you say that Max was right about something and you told her that you did say that—

  Chief: 99, stop it! You’re getting more like Max every day. Now, just listen. Hymie looked all over Fort Knox and he found no trace of Number One. But when he put his ear to the ground, he did hear the clicking again. So, he followed the sound, and it led him to Las Vegas. He’s there now.

  99 (looking around): I don’t see him, Chief.

  Operator: Look down. He probably still has his ear to the ground.

  99: No, I still—

  Chief: He isn’t at the hotel, 99. He’s at the Leg Up Dude Ranch just outside town. He thinks that’s where Number One is being kept prisoner. I want you to get out there as fast as you can. He’ll need help

  99: And Max, Chief?

  Chief: As I said—just leave him, 99. Once a man gets the gambling fever, he’s no good to anybody

  Operator: Wanta bet on that?

  99: All right, Chief . . . if that’s your decision. I’ll certainly miss him, though.

  Chief: Be brave, 99.

  99 handed Max back his shoe. “It was the Chief,” she said.

  “I gathered that, 99. What I don’t understand is why you suddenly turned against me.”

  “Oh . . . you heard?”

  “Of course I heard. I heard every word you said. And not once did I hear you mention your inheritance and ask the Chief for the borrow of airfare.”

  “Oh . . . that. Well, Max . . .” She started to rise. “You know I wouldn’t do this if—”

  “Where are you going, 99? We haven’t had dinner yet.”

  “The Chief ordered me to rendezvous with Hymie, Max. He’s outside town at the Leg Up Dude Ranch.”

  “Mmmmmm . . .” Max mused. “I wonder
how much money he has with him.”

  “No, Max—you can’t go,” 99 said. “The Chief doesn’t trust you. You’re sick, Max. And this is an important case. Hymie has traced Number One to that dude ranch.”

  Max suddenly stiffened. His eyes began rolling in circles. His hair stood on end . . . then slowly drooped back into place.

  “Max! What happened!”

  “I just had a wonderful shock, 99,” Max replied. He jumped up. “Come on! Let’s get out there to that dude ranch!”

  “But, Max . . . your gambling . . .”

  “Gambling? I have no interest in gambling, 99. You can’t beat the system.”

  99 grinned happily. “That was certainly some shock you had, Max. I wonder what caused it.”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea, 99,” Max said, leading the way out. “It happened right after you told me that Hymie had traced Number One to Las Vegas.”

  “And you know what that means, Max. It means that Hymie was wrong, and you were right.” She suddenly stopped. “Max . . . I wonder . . . could that shock have been caused by the fact that for once in your life you—”

  “99, that’s ridiculous,” Max said, hustling her on. “I’m sure that, sometime in my life, I must have been right at least once before.”

  “Like when?” 99 asked curiously.

  “Well,” Max replied, “if you count that Fourth of July when I had the mumps and didn’t go out and get my fingers blown off with a firecracker . . . and the day . . .”

  5.

  MAX AND 99 rented a car from an unbelievable organization called a rent-a-car agency, then, after asking for directions, sped toward the Leg Up Dude Ranch. As they neared it, driving slowly now, a figure suddenly stepped from behind a cactus and waved to them.

  “Max! That’s Hymie!” 99 said.

  “It could be a KAOS agent disguised as Hymie, 99,” Max replied. “Maybe we better run him down first and ask questions later.”

  “Max—stop it. Try to get along with Hymie. It isn’t his fault he’s in charge.”

  Max pulled over, and Hymie came trotting up to the car.

  “Hi, Hymie,” 99 said cordially. “How did you know it was us?”

  “I heard you talking when you were still miles away,” Hymie replied. “My super sensitive hearing, you know.”

  “Oh . . . sure. Gee, I hope you didn’t hear anything that offended you.”

  “Not until you drove up just a minute ago—when Max wanted to run me down,” Hymie replied.

  “Well, of course, Hymie, I didn’t mean that,” Max said. “If your Uncle HIM should ask, you can tell him it was just a little joke.”

  “Hymie,” 99 said, “The Chief told us you think you’ve found Number One.”

  Hymie nodded. “She’s up ahead—at the dude ranch,” he said. “I heard her ticking. She’s having a fine time. From what I can gather from the ticking, Ways and Means have got her well oiled ”

  “You mean-—”

  “I mean well oiled,” Hymie said, “I can’t understand half of what she ticks.”

  “We better get in there and save her,” Max said. “Lead on, Hymie. We’ll storm the place.”

  Hymie shook his head. “That won’t work, Max,” he said. “There are guards all around. They look like ordinary ranch hands, but, in fact, they’re KAOS agents.”

  “Mmmmm . . . let’s take a look at the place,” Max said. “With my experience, I’ll probably be able to spot a weakness in the KAOS defense.”

  Hymie led the way across the desert toward the Leg Up Dude Ranch. As they approached it, he motioned for Max and 99 to crouch, and then he halted the advance just as they neared the top of a sand dune.

  “The ranch is just on the other side of this dune,” Hymie explained. “Don’t let the guards see you.”

  Max and 99 peeked over the top of the mound of sand. They saw a large fenced-in area. There was a big guest house, and behind it a pool, and then a smaller house for the ranch hands. In the corral there were two animals—one that looked a great deal like a horse and another that looked like a cow.

  “Baffling,” Max said.

  “What is, Max?” 99 asked.

  “Why they call it the ‘Leg Up,’” Max replied. “I don’t get the connection.”

  “Max, that isn’t important. Do you see the weakness in the defense?”

  “Of course I do, 99. It was obvious at first sight. That ranch is a sitting duck for a man with a cannister of hypnotizing vapor.”

  “Max . . .”

  “I know, I know, 99—the same old problem. But, after all, all I promised was to spot the weakness. I didn’t say I could do anything about it.”

  Max and 99 ducked down behind the dune again.

  “I don’t suppose you thought to bring a cannister of hypnotizing vapor,” Max said to Hymie.

  “What’s that, Max?”

  Max turned to 99. “What can I do? I’m at the mercy of my leader. If he fails, I fail—it’s as simple as that. However,” he went on, “there’s always the alternative. If the initial plan happens to flop—due to bungling by the higher-ups—there’s always a second plan to fall back on.” To Hymie, he said, “You do have a second plan, I assume.”

  “I propose that we infiltrate the ranch,” Hymie said.

  “Well, that’s certainly better than your first idea—especially since you forgot to bring the hypnotizing vapor,” Max said. “And, as a matter of fact, it was what I was going to suggest, too. Tell me, Hymie, how do you think I think we ought to do it?”

  “Max, you and I could apply for jobs as ranch hands,” Hymie replied. “All the hands they have now seem to be KAOS guards, so they must need somebody to do the work. And 99 could register as a guest.”

  “Brilliant,” Max said. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  “There’s one problem,” 99 said. “Ways and Means have seen us, and surely they’ll recognize us if we appear at the ranch.”

  “See, Hymie—you’re not so smart after all, are you?” Max said. “When you were thinking what I was thinking, you forgot that little detail.”

  “I thought we could disguise ourselves,” Hymie said.

  “You’re a mind-reader,” Max said approvingly.

  The three returned to the car, drove back to town, then went to a costuming shop and purchased disguises. Max and Hymie cemented handlebar mustaches to their upper lips, and 99 donned a redheaded wig.

  “How do I look?” Hymie asked.

  “Ah don’t believe ah know you, stranger,” Max replied.

  They then drove back to the ranch. After hiding the car, they approached the ranch gate, where a guard—dressed as a ranch hand—was on duty.

  “Howdy, podna,” Max drawled. “We’re two cow pokes and a lady guest.” He indicated 99. “She’s the lady guest.”

  “Welcome, Miss,” the ranch hand said. He pointed toward the guest house. “Thataway,” he said.

  99 passed through the entrance and moved on toward the guest house.

  “Whichaway do we go?” Max asked the hand.

  “It depends on what you want?” the ranch hand replied.

  “Waal, we just come off the big drive to Abilene,” Max said. “And we’re fixin’ to tie-up with a new outfit.”

  “The big drive to Abilene, eh?” the hand said suspiciously. “How did you get there?”

  “The freeway,” Max replied. “How else?”

  “Well, we might be able to use some extra hands,” the guard said. “Come along.”

  He led them to the guest house, then into the office. There, Max and Hymie found themselves in the presence of Wayne Ways and Melvin Means.

  “Looking for work, eh?” Ways said. “Have you had any experience?”

  “Doing what?” Max asked.

  “Handling a herd,” Means said.

  “Of course,” Max replied. “Cows are practically our middle names.”

  “I’m talking about the guests,” Means said. “If they’re not watched, they stray, and get lo
st on the desert. That costs money.”

  “What are you getting for guests by the pound these days?” Max asked.

  “I mean if they stray and get lost for good they can’t pay their bills, naturally,” Means said. “Okay, you’re hired,” he decided. “Your duties will be to take care of the pony and the steer and—”

  “Are they the same as the horse and the cow?” Max asked.

  “Right. We only got one of each. That’s enough for atmosphere, we figure. Your other duty will be to do whatever the guests request. Just kind of hang around and be available.”

  “We do that very well,” Max said.

  “You’ll bunk in the bunkhouse with all the other hands,” Ways said. “Oh . . . and one other thing. If you happen to be near the pool and hear a lot of loud ticking, pay no attention to it.”

  “What causes it?” Max asked.

  “Sun spots,” Ways said.

  Max peered at him puzzledly. “Sun spots?”

  “Why not?” Means said. “Everything else gets blamed on sun spots—why not loud ticking?”

  “That makes sense,” Max admitted.

  “Okay, let’s shake a leg!” Ways said.

  Hymie shook his right leg.

  “Uh . . . he has a great sense of humor,” Max explained, hurrying Hymie out.

  Max and Hymie went first to the bunkhouse. There were separate rooms for each of the hands. They were surprised to find that on each bedside table there was a bedside computer.

  “That’s very nice of Means and Ways,” Max said. “Not every employer is thoughtful enough to supply his hired hands with such conveniences.”

  “There must be some reason for it,” Hymie frowned.

  “Of course there is—good employer-employee relations,” Max said.

  “Some other reason,” Hymie insisted. “We’ll probably find out sooner or later.”

  “In the meantime,” Max said, “we better pretend to be working.”

  They left the bunkhouse and went to the corral.

  “It’s probably either feeding time or milking time,” Max said. “Now . . . we have a horse and a cow, so it ought to be easy to figure out which to do to which. Except that . . . uh, Hymie, do you happen to know which is the horse and which is the cow?”

 

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