ook one look at the imposing granite building in which
he was about to trust his tender body and with a shake of his head
mounted the long flight of steps.

Jim Drake stepped hard on the accelerator and sped away toward
Wildwood Zoo.

* * * * *

Once on the grounds he had little trouble finding the section of open
air cages that housed the small animals. Wildwood was built with a
complete lack of eye appeal. Down a tarred path he passed through
tangled brush and approached a short line of ugly wired cages.

The silver fox was crouching at the rear of the last cage. She stood
up as he came near and started to trot slowly back and forth in front
of him. Looking around carefully, Drake saw that he was alone.
Afternoon crowds had long since deserted this uninteresting section.

His imagination told Drake that there was something feminine about the
smooth motions of the animal's body. The black eyes were
pleading--Sylvia Fanton's eyes.

"Please," the girl in the car had said. "I must have the fur."

The walk was deserted. He leaned over the fence and said softly.

"Sylvia--Sylvia Fanton."

The fox continued its restless pacing.

Drake doubted his own sanity. If anyone heard him standing here alone,
talking to an animal.... He shook his head in disgust and started to
turn away.

From the corner of his eye he caught the sudden flash of smooth, human
flesh. Whipping around, eyes wide, Drake was sure that for a fraction
of a minute a lovely nude girl appeared in the cage where the fox had
been. _It was Sylvia Fanton._ A flash of nude limbs molded
breathtakingly, snatched at his breath. Warm pleading eyes, full rich
lips that seemed to cry beseechingly.

"Help me. You are the only one...."

Then the vision was gone. The silver fox stood silently in its place,
head bent forward. Jim Drake suffered all the emotions of a man about
to go mad. He knew it was all a crazy dream, and yet.... Last night
he had been drunk. Now, here in the harsh light of late afternoon it
had been so real.

Hurried footsteps crunched loudly on the tar walk. He slipped quickly
out of sight into the brush that grew beside the fox cage. Feeling
like a fool, Jim waited. The heavy slouching figure of George Lardner
heaved into sight. One of the keepers, trimly uniformed, was at his
side. They stopped before the cage and engaged in hurried
conversation. The keeper nodded several times and Lardner passed him a
bil