By Heaven! Did they intend to steal the third Converter, too? And right in front of his eyes, before it even got decently dark?
Sam was so furious that he couldn't even think straight. When the two men climbed out of the car and started walking toward the house, Sam ran back into his study, pulled open his desk drawer, and took out the .38 Special he kept there. It was the work of seconds to thumb six cartridges into the chambers and swing the cylinder shut.
The door chime sounded.
Sam went back into the front room with the revolver in his jacket pocket and his hand ready to fire it.
"Who is it?" he called, in what he hoped was a steady voice.
"We're Special Agents of the FBI," said a voice. "May we see you for a few moments, Mr. Bending?"
"Certainly. Come on in; the door's unlocked." Just walk in, you phonies! Just trot right on in, he thought.
And they did. The two men walked in, removing their hats as they did so.
"We—" one of them began. He stopped when he saw that he was addressing a round, black hole that was only a fraction more than a third of an inch in diameter but looked much, much larger from his viewpoint.