"Oh," said I. "Well, whenever you say. It's been a delightful evening." The hell it had.
"Thank you," said Kettering. "Goodnight, now. Be careful going across the grounds, Manny. I let my little watchdog out in about ten minutes."
"Uh," I said expressively. "Well, goodnight."
His big gates opened ahead of the car and shut behind it, and I drove down the road a little and parked. Would Myron want to wait a month before I could even see Kettering again? I mulled awhile, picked up the dash phone, and rang up Myron. He was sore when he answered—apparently I'd interrupted something—and sore when I got through talking. When I hung up I had received an ultimatum—get the dope, get it now, or....
Well, I did look forward to keeping my job, which financed a blonde, a brunette, and two cars. I couldn't let all those dependents down.
I am much opposed to hard thinking, but I decided to do some. Finally I snuffed up an idea. Just to show you what hard thinking leads to, it was the idea that changed everything.
Renn was much too cool to show the secret. But the cast had to be in on it. And there was this liking this Mars business, and the trip back there, and all that jazz.
I would sneak back to the house and spy on the actors and actresses. Preferably the actresses. Only, of course, because they talk more.
I drove back with the lights out and parked by the big gate. I didn't see anything of the tawny. The gate was made of upright iron bars, sharp-pointed at the tips, and I climbed up. The bars were set loosely into holes in the cross-pieces, resting solid on the bottom crosspiece but not welded. I worked one out. A spear. Too heavy to throw at a tawny or anybody else, but I remembered a movie I saw as a kid, back when they had jungle movies. The jokers in this movie had done something I might do with the tawny.