"This Dolly," Toffee said. "She bears the manager ill will?"
"Oh, no," the girl said. "She's crazy about him. She's been after him for years and never got anywhere at all. I guess she figures time's runnin' out."
"And this sport's department," Toffee asked. "They have a department just for sports? I mean, is this manager considered a sport?"
"He's game," the girl said. "Let's put it that way. The sports department is where they sell equipment."
"At least this Dolly suits the locale to the action," Toffee said.
Just then the atmosphere was rent with another bellow of agony.
"Come on," Marc said. "The poor devil needs help."
"Be careful," the girl called after them as they started away. "He's mean when he's cornered. Snarls and spits like a mad badger. And that Dolly, she's been mean all her life."
Marc and Toffee hurried to the sports section and stopped at the entrance with a gasp of dismay. At the far end of the department a camping display was being utilized for a scene of mad action.
A young man of immaculate and personable countenance, one foot held fast between the jaws of a mammoth bear trap, was energetically distorting his features and making loud sounds of dissatisfaction.