oon as the rush of anger was gone he would regain
control of his body.

They stood as if frozen in a tableau. The robot slumped backward, the
man leaning forward, his face twisted with unreasoning hatred. The head
lay between them like a symbol of death.

Coleman's voice cut through the air of tenseness like a knife.

"_Druce_, stop playing with the grease-can and get down to the main door
to let Little Willy and his junk-brokers in. You can have it all to
yourself afterward."

The angry man turned reluctantly, but pushed out of the door at
Coleman's annoyed growl. Jon sat down against the wall, his mind sorting
out the few facts with lightning precision. There was no room in his
thoughts for Druce, the man had become just one more factor in a complex
problem.

Call the emergency operator--that meant this was no local matter,
responsible authorities must be involved. Only the government could be
behind a thing as major as this. Signal 14--that inferred a complex set
of arrangements, forces that could swing into action at a moment's
notice. There was no indication where this might lead, but the only
thing to do was to get out of here and make that phone call. And quick.
Druce was bringing in more people, junk-brokers, whatever they were. Any
action that he took would have to be done before they returned.

Even as Jon followed this train of logic his fingers were busy. Palming
a wrench, he was swiftly loosening the main retaining nut on his hip
joint. It dropped free in his hand, only the pivot pin remained now to
hold his leg on. He climbed slowly to his feet and moved towards
Coleman's desk.

"Mr. Coleman, sir, it's time to go down to the ship now, should I leave
now, sir?"

Jon spoke the words slowly as he walked forward, apparently going to the
door, but angling at the same time towards the plump man's desk.

"You got thirty minutes yet, go sit--_say_...!"

The words were cut off. Fast as a human reflex is, it is the barest
crawl compared to the lightning action of electronic reflex. At the
instant Coleman was first aware of Jon's motion, the robot had finished
his leap and lay sprawled across the desk, his leg off at the hip and
clutched in his hand.

"YOU'LL KILL YOURSELF IF YOU TOUCH THE BUTTON!"

The words were part of the calculated plan. Jon bellowed them in the
startled man's ear as he stuffed the dismembered leg down the front of
the man's baggy slacks. It had the desired effect, Coleman's finge