ice time, had headed homeward.

"Brother," Mort greeted me, "you were right and how!"

"About the loony--" I began.

"That's right," Mort said. "He was as loony a loony as I've ever heard
of. We finally got rid of him."

"Got rid of him?" I blurted the question.

"Yeah," Mort nodded. "And I hope for good. He just faded off, about
half an hour after his voice began to get dimmer and dimmer, and that
was that."

"But--" I began.

"And wait'll you hear who that bug thought he was."

"Gabby who?" I asked.

"Gabby, nuts. I messed it up the first time. He thought he was
Gabriel, the _Angel_ Gabriel, no less!" Mort exclaimed, tapping the
side of his head.

"The Angel Gabriel?" I echoed.

Mort nodded. "And guess who he was calling for?"

"Don't tell me," I said.

"That's right," Mort declared. "He said he was God's secretary,
Gabriel, calling from Heaven for his boss. He said his boss wanted to
talk to Hitler and Mussolini!"

* * * * *

I blinked. "And what was God going to tell those lice?"

"To take it on the lam, or else!" Mike broke in.

"No fooling?"

"So help me!" Mort swore. "What a loony. He went on to say--this fake
Angel Gabriel--that his boss just wanted to tell those two jerks,
Adolf and Benito, that enough was enough and they were dead ducks for
sure."

"What made this Gabriel from the nut house get so confidential all of
a sudden?" I demanded. "He wouldn't tell his business at all at
first."

"This'll kill you," Mort said. "The connection, like I say, kept
getting fainter and fainter, and our goofy Gabriel said it was fading
off and that we'd have to hand the message on to Hitler and Mussolini
for his boss, if we couldn't bring the two jerks to the phone to hear
it in person."

"Did he bother to explain," I asked, "why he didn't call Adolf and
Benito directly, if his boss wanted to tell them off?"

"So help me," Mort declared, "he did. He said that with the war all
over our globe like it is, there was a lot of space interference
everywhere preventin' communication. He said he couldn't be choosy,
and had to use any wire he could get through to. It happened to be
ours. Can you beat it?"

I shook my head slowly. "No," I said, "I can't. But what trick could
he have used to stay on the phone indefinitely, connected right to
your wire, even after you hung up on him each time?" And then,
briefly, I explained the rest of my puzzle over that little item.

"I