"We were kidnapped," Marc began.
"... by the man who's ..." Toffee continued impatiently.
The sheriff's hand moved for silence more swiftly than either of them had supposed it could. His eyes moved beseechingly toward the ceiling. His lips murmured a silent prayer ... or curse.
"I know! I know!" he groaned. "By the man who's goin' to blow up the whole ding blasted world! You ain't said a word about nothin' else since my deputies come draggin' you in here. And if I have to listen to any more about it, I'm going to throw you two in jail and have the key melted down for a watch fob! It is the craziest thing I ever heard of in all my whole natural life."
"Natural life?" Toffee exclaimed acidly. "He calls life with a face like that natural! If that's nature, I'll take tabasco!"
"What's the matter with my face?" the sheriff asked belligerently.
"What isn't! Just look at that moth-eaten mustache!"
"Stop that!" Marc put in crisply. "We haven't time to haggle over the sheriff's mustache! We've only got twenty-two hours left!"
Injured at having been brought to account by his own prisoner, the sheriff turned vengeful eyes on Marc.
"You're in here fer murder!" he snapped.