The General sighed. He knew when he was beaten. He said, "You'll have to stand for a guard then—twenty-four hours. We'll keep them out of sight as much as possible." He wished the whole business were rationally explicable to his own superiors. As it was he knew his hands were tied when it came to drastic action.
"I suppose it's necessary," said MacReedy sadly, but not defiantly; "I should never have tried to show off."
"It's too late for that sort of thing," said the General. "I'm going to have to take some of your models with me—it's too late to do much about the new tank, but I'll have to have the rocket-launcher and the A-gun. And I'll want your promise not to indulge in any more such experiments except as I request."
"That I am glad to give you," said MacReedy and there was no doubting the sincerity of his words.
"I'll pay you for them," offered the General.
"Of course," replied the model-maker; "my name isn't MacReedy for nothing."
As he handed over a couple of hundred dollars the General found himself almost liking the man. Damn these screwballs, he thought. He wondered when he was going to wake up and find it hadn't happened. It couldn't be happening, any of it. But the perilously-perfect models, of weapons that were yet to be, felt terribly real to his touch.
He said, "Toby, run upstairs and tell Sergeant Riley to come down here and take some stuff out to the car." And, when the boy was gone, "MacReedy, will you do some work for us?"
"Of course," said the other. "A man gets feeling a bit useless making toy soldiers in times like these."
"The pay won't be much...." the General began.