"You've no idea," Toffee said. "If you did, you'd be courting a stomach pump with everything that's in you."
Marc slapped the telephone receiver back into place. "Good night," he murmured, aghast. "Whole handfuls of the things!"
Chadwick managed to choke down his generous grabbings. "Well," he said with satisfaction, "now we'll see what's what."
"And probably a good deal more," Toffee said. "If we can bear to look." She glanced down at Mr. Culpepper who was still resting quietly on the floor. "What can we do about it?"
The little man shrugged, uninterested. "You cheated," he mumbled. "You ducked."
"We ought to do something right away," Marc put in. "Maybe a stomach pump isn't such a bad idea. In a minute it'll be too late. There's a...."
It was already too late.
The Harpers had suddenly turned an unfortunate shade of whitish-green. They clutched at each other in a paroxysm of agony, shuddering from head to toe. Then, seized by a rending spasm that nearly doubled them, they slid soundlessly to the floor.
"Oh, Chad...!" Agatha whimpered. Her head fell loosely to the pit of Chadwick's stomach. "Ohhhh!" And then she passed out.
Chadwick was unmoved by his mate's pitiful lamentations; he had been dead to the world even before he touched the floor.