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” She caught up with him in the hallway and grabbed him by the arm. “Come on into my room. I want you to hear a new Belafonte record I just got.”

Greg pulled away, but then Mike, emerging from his room, blocked his way. “Hi, Greg,” he said with an old-pal affableness note 12 that was unlike him, “you’re just in time to help me assemble my Telstar model.”

Mike stood his ground, bringing Greg to a quick, awkward halt. Behind him Patti asked, “Greg, how could you – how could you let an old busybody wreck everything between us?”

Ingrid piped up, “Yes, how could you, Greg?” She added, “If you don’t believe my sis, I’ll swear to it, and you know I wouldn’t swear to anything and hope to die if I

“

Mike said, “This is the greatest model yet. You never saw anything like it.”

Greg shoved him aside and stepped into Patti’s bedroom.

At the pounding on the front door, and Ingrid’s call for Patti, Zeke anticipated trouble. He picked up his hat and coat and brief case, and stepped into the closet. He never could explain it afterwards but just as he was closing the door D.C. shot into the closet with him.

Zeke rid himself of a good sneeze to get into shape before Greg arrived. He heard the loud talking in the hallway, In-grid joining Patti in an effort to stop the onrushing Greg, and Mike making one last, brave stand.

Zeke reconnoitered in the small, dark closet. He remem­bered to switch off the radio. D.C. seemed quiet enough, rubbing against his trouser leg as if they were old friends.

Zeke heard Patti say, “I told you nobody was back here. I can’t understand you, Greg. I just don’t understand how you could believe that old gossip over me.”

Greg was walking about. “I didn’t believe her. But I got to thinking, what if somebody was hiding in your bedroom, and I didn’t do anything about it, and tomorrow I read in the newspapers

” ,

And then Zeke heard Ingrid, “I’m terribly disappointed in you.”

Near tears, Patti said, “You suspected me. You thought I had a man here.”

Ingrid said, “I think it’s all a mistake. Just a mistake. Let’s have a Coke and a good laugh about it.”

Zeke felt a sneeze approaching, and pressed a forefinger against the base of his nose to suppress it. So why don’t they get Greg Balter out? What in heaven’s name are they waiting for? He couldn’t stall the sneeze forever, not with the blasted cat brushing back and forth, back and forth, across his right calf.

He never knew exactly how it happened. All he remem­bered was that he pushed D.C. gently aside with one foot, and the next instant D.C. screamed murder in a shriek that must have rocked the neighborhood. Zeke’s blood shot through him like a drag race in progress, and thunder filled his head, and his body was paralyzed, until finally the little man at the controls of his shocked brain climbed out and ordered him to get off the cat’s tail. Great Caesar’s ghost, the little man repeated, get off the cat’s tail! And Zeke raised a foot. In the same instant he realized his hearing had been shattered along with his nerves and co-ordination.

The next moment the door was flung open, and Greg Balter stood before him, a portrait of magnificent outrage. Zeke emerged shaken to his toenails. His voice sputtered and died. He pushed the starter again, but the motor only spun a second, coughed, and gave up.

He heard Greg shouting, as if in a tunnel. “You – an FBI agent! Taking advantage of a girl! Corrupting children! I’m going to report you to Washington . I’m going to get you fired. I’m going to have you cashiered out in disgrace. I’ll smear it over every newspaper in the country.”

Patti was crying. “Greg, Greg, please, Greg.” And Ingrid was shouting, “Greg! Listen to me. Greg! Listen to me.”

Only Mike, standing in the doorway, was as speechless as Zeke. His eyes had popped three sizes bigger than normal. This couldn’t be happening. He wasn’t seeing or hearing right. And when his folks got back, oh, brother

.

Greg continued, “But you’re not an FBI agent. You’re an impersonator. I knew the first time I saw you that you were a phony.” He added maliciously, “And that’s a prison sen­tence. You’ll get twenty years for this.”

He turned on Patti, “How could you? How could you?”

“How could you?” she asked.

He hurried down the hallway, pursued by Patti, Ingrid, and Mike. He was saying, “First your cat, and then Blitzy’s at death’s door because of you, and now this. And that routine you gave me this afternoon, I took it hook, line, and sinker.” He mimicked her, ” ‘Now, Greg, don’t get excited. Don’t be so suspicious

. Surely you don’t think I had a man in my bedroom

I can’t understand you, Greg, how you could believe that old busybody.’ “

He banged the door so hard the last Mohican almost leaped off the wall. Patti clenched her jaw in anger against the tears. Ingrid said, “You liked him, didn’t you, sis?” And Mike came up and squeezed her hand. “I’ll have a talk with him next time I mow the grass.”