"All right. Get going."
"What do those guys want?" asked a typist as he pulled the paper from his machine.
Mario looked quickly at the guard and as quickly away from him.
"Dunno," he shrugged.
"Somethin' about the war, I bet," grunted the typist.
"War's over, dope," said the other. "Nothin' behind the curtain now but a nice assortment of bomb craters. All sizes."
"Go on, Joe," ordered the guard. "You heard something. Give."
"Well ... I heard that fat general say something about wanting the warden outa here in a hour."
The typewriters stopped their clacking for a bare instant, then started up again, more slowly. The guard frowned, then said, "On your way, Joe." He hesitated, then, "No use to tell you to button your lip, I guess."
"I'm not causing any trouble," Mario said, as the guard opened the door and stood aside for him to pass into the corridor.