otive bearing down upon him.

He swallowed grimly, "aventred" his own spear, and upped Easy Money's
pace. Two could play at being locomotives. The approaching knight and
steed loomed larger; the sound of hoofbeats crescendoed into staccato
thunder. The spear pointing straight toward Mallory's breastplate had
something of the aspect of a jet-propelled flagpole. Hurriedly, he got
his shield into position. Maybe the man would spot the red cross,
realize its significance, and slow down.

If he spotted it, he gave no sign, and only came the faster. Mallory
braced himself for the forthcoming impact. However, the impact never
occurred. At the last moment his antagonist directed the spearpoint at
Mallory's helmet, did something that made it separate itself from the
shaft to the accompaniment of a gout of incandescence and come
streaking through the air like a little comet. Mallory tried to dodge,
but he would have been equally as successful if he had tried to dodge
a real comet. There was a deafening _clang!_ in the region of his left
audio-amplifier, and the whole left side of his face went numb. Just
before he blacked out he saw the oncoming knight veer his steed, wheel
it around, and ride off. A peal of all-too-familiar laughter drifted
back over the man's shoulder.

* * * * *

"Now," said the rent-a-robogogue, "you will try again: 'A' is for
'Atom', 'B' is for 'Bomb', 'C' is for 'Conform', 'D' is for 'Dollar',
'E' is for 'Economy', and 'F' is for 'Fun'. What comes after 'F'?"

The boy Mallory squirmed in his ABC chair. "I don't know what comes
next and I don't care!"

"I'll box your ears," the rent-a-robogogue threatened.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Yes I would--I'm a physical-chastisement model, you know. Now, we'll
try once more: 'A' is for 'Atom', 'B' is for 'Bomb', 'C' is for
'Conform', 'D' is for 'Dollar', 'E' is for 'Economy', and 'F' is for
'Fun'. What comes after 'F'?"

"I told you that I didn't know and that I didn't care!"

"I warned you," said the rent-a-robogogue.

"Ow!" the boy Mallory cried.

"Ow!" the man Mallory groaned, sitting up in the weeds beside the
early sixth-century highway.

All was silence around him, if you discounted the stridulations of
insects and the _be-ke korak-korak-korak_ of frogs. A few yards away,
Easy Money stood immobile in the moonlight. Mallory raised his hand
to his helmet and felt the sizable dent that the spearpoint had made.
Gingerly,