As Norman stared at the suddenly lifeless wine in Johnny's glass, he realized there was only one thing left to do. He knew a couple of boys who were pretty handy with a blackjack and he knew an old hunting lodge in the Adirondacks where they could lock Johnny up for a week.
The next morning as Norman was packing his bags, one of his "boys" appeared at the door. His eyes were black and swollen. Embarrassed, he held out an envelope. Norman tore it open.
"You'll find your other playmate locked in my bathroom. I'll bring you a jug full of the Fountain of Youth." The note was written in Johnny's careless scrawl! Norman flicked the ampliphone button in the little table beside his bed.
"Interstellar Spaceport!" he ordered the invisible telemike as he pulled a handful of bills from his pocket and shoved them at the battered gentleman in the door. "Thanks for trying, Spike. Go kick Johnny's bathroom door down. Joe's locked up in there—"
"Spaceport," the wall speaker said.
"John Gordon," Norman asked, waving Spike out, "has he been there?"
"Mr. Gordon took off half an hour ago, sir," said the ampliphone. "For Mercury."
"Thanks...." As Norman clicked off the receiver, premonition crept over him like a shadow. His hand moved to the receiver again—to call for a ship and follow Johnny. Then the ampliphone buzzed under his hand.
It was the Senator. He was waiting at the capital.