"This mess is of your making," insisted the stranger. "Shall I recount?"
"Please do," snapped Ackerman superciliously. "But after you tell me who you are."
"I happen to be Tansie Lee's husband."
"You—" stammered Ackerman. That, possibly, was the one thing that could—and did—fluster him completely. Not only that, but he showed it in every line of his body, every gesture, every stammering syllable. The other got a laugh out of Ackerman's complete loss of personal control.
"Don't apologize," he said. "I sent Tansie Lee; I hoped that you would be smart enough to figure it out with her help. You aren't."
"Did you instruct Tansie Lee to make love to me?"
"Tansie did nothing wrong," said the man. "What was wrong—completely, and totally—was your attitude."
Then he held up a hand as Ackerman was about to continue. "Not now," he said. "You've got to untangle this mess first."
"Go ahead," said Les. "Untangle."
"You," said Tansie Lee's husband, "were met by my wife in a state of ignorance concerning this fine mixup. You were intercepted by the Blaines, whom you, yourself, sent recently to do the intercepting. You even gave them the information that would best cause the breakup of intelligent understanding between Tansie and yourself. The Blaines reached you and intercepted. That fouled up my initial plans. Then you and the Blaines were intercepted again by the Laplane-Ford outfit—which you again sent to do the intercepting. Interestingly snarled, Ackerman; but when Barry Ford told you with such certainty that the Blaines were leading you to the instant of entrapped no-return at the so-called 'edge of time-space', Barry Ford was merely echoing your own fears. Fears which were installed in you, by the way, by Barry, who was recounting your own—oh Hell and Damnation!"