Another jack-in-the-box thought popping up from nowhere.
The only way I'll ever get all of this stuff straightened out in my mind is to get more information. And it doesn't look as though anyone is going to give it to me on a platter, either. The Institute men seem to be awfully chary about giving information away, even to me. George even had to chase away old rub-and-pound (That feels good!) before he would talk about the Nipe. Can't blame 'em for that, of course. There'd be hell to pay for everyone around if the general public ever found out that the Nipe has been kept as a pet for six years.
How many people has he killed in that time? Twenty? Thirty? How much blood does Colonel Mannheim have on his hands?
Though they know not why,
Or for what they give,
Still, the few must die,
That the many may live.
I wonder whether I read all that stuff complete or just browsed through a copy of Bartlett's Quotations.
Fragments.
We've got to get organized around here, brother. Colonel Mannheim's puppet is going to have to cut his strings and do a Pinocchio.