got the door open."

"What is this bromine, anyhow? Boy it sure stinks!"

"It's a chemical element like chlorine, only it's a liquid. It fumes
if you don't keep it covered with water, and the fumes really get you.
They used it in gas bombs in the war."

"That was chlorine."

"They used bromine, too. I read it."

"Air!" Neff rasped.

"Help yourself if you call this stinkin' stuff in your warehouse air."

From the vault the deadened voice came. "This must be the switch. The
other switch is for the lights."

"Look out! When you turn it on don't get dosed yourself."

"I only dumped a few drops in. There. It'll blow out in a few--phew,
let me outta here. That stuff does--God, it's worse than the dose I
got in the chem lab!" The voice grew, coughing and cursing. "Better
wait a minute or two. How's our big brave dog-killer doing?"

On his hands and knees, Neff was on the verge of passing out, but
doggedly he tried to place the voices. Highschool kids? _Bromine._
Sounded like a chemical they might filch from the highschool
laboratory.

A kick in the ribs reminded him he was still helpless. "All right, get
back in there." They aimed him through the vault door and kept kicking
him until he went. They hauled him up into his chair. He tried to
strike out blindly, but his chest was full of licking flames that
spread pain out to his shoulders.

Now rope whipped around his feet, hands, chest and neck, jerking his
body hard against the castered desk-chair and cramping his head back.
"Tie him good. No way to lock him in with this door."

Neff opened his eyes. The boys were wet blurs rummaging through his
desk. "Look! Just look at that! We can't carry all that."

"Get one of those burlap sacks out there. By the door."

Footsteps went and returned. "Now, just the small bills. Up to twenty.
No, Jerry, leave the big stuff alone. Who'd take one from a kid?"

"Okay, let's make tracks."

"Wait!" Neff said desperately. "My legs and hands. You've cut off the
circulation!"

* * * * *

Something hard like the barrel of a gun rapped down on the top of his
head. "I ought to blow your dirty brains out. Killing my little
sister's dog, damn you. Damn you, I think I will kill you. Damn you,
damn you!" the voice crested.

"Wait a minute Jerry," the other voice cut in. "I got a better idea.
Here. Look at this."

Short silence. "Yeah! Yeah, that's just dandy. Look how thin he is.
That's just what