Mr. Untz’s eyebrows went up. This kind of talk he understood. He reached into the side pocket of the gabardine for his cigarette case. He kept a separate gold case in each suit.
“Yeeeeow!” said Mr. Untz.
His hand came out of the pocket with a small green snake in it.
“Drop it! Stand back!” said Harold, being cool.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Dr. Mildume in a calmer voice. He was blinking mildly at the snake. “It’s merely an ordinary species of garden snake, sometimes erroneously called garter snake. Curious it should be there.”
Harold looked at Dr. Mildume sharply. “This teleportation of yours wouldn’t have anything to do with it by any chance?”
“Of course not,” snapped Mildume.
“I know how it got here!” said Mr. Untz, his jowls trembling. He had already dropped the snake. “A certain child star whose initials are Jimsy LaRoche! Last week he gives me a hotfoot. Monday a wet seat—soaked newspapers in my chair under one thin dry one. Yesterday a big frog in my shower. I should take that brat over my knee and spank him to his face!”
“Mm—ah—of course,” said Dr. Mildume without much interest in the topic. “Shall we go to inspect the monsters now?”