bout the front?" Sergeant Cowder asked. "Anyone could get in from
the front."

Harry's grin became grim. "Not unless I go with 'em. And not even then
if I don't want 'em to."

"It was kind of you to let us in," said the detective mildly.

"A pleasure," said Harry. "But I wish I knew how that kid got in."

"Well, he did--somehow," Cowder said. "What happened after he came out
of the closet?"

"He made me let the girl in. They were goin' to open up the rear
completely and take my stuff out that way. They'd ha' done it, too, if
Mr. Gabriel hadn't come along."

Detective Sergeant Cowder looked at Mike the Angel. "About what time was
that, Mr. Gabriel?"

"About six thirty-five," Mike told him. "The kids probably hadn't been
here more than a few minutes."

Harry MacDougal nodded in silent corroboration.

"Then what happened?" asked the detective.

Mike told him a carefully edited version of what had occurred, leaving
out the existence of the little gadget he was carrying in his pocket.
The sergeant listened patiently and unbelievingly through the whole
recital. Mike the Angel grinned to himself; he knew what part of the
story seemed queer to the cop.

He was right. Cowder said: "Now, wait a minute. What caused those
vibroblades to burn up that way?"

"Must have been faulty," Mike the Angel said innocently.

"Both of them?" Sergeant Cowder asked skeptically. "At the same time?"

"Oh no. Thirty seconds apart, I'd guess."

"Very interesting. Very." He started to say something else, but a
uniformed officer stuck his head in through the doorway that led to the
front of the shop.

"We combed the whole area, Sergeant. Not a soul around. But from the
looks of the alley, there must have been a small truck parked in there
not too long ago."

Cowder nodded. "Makes sense. Those JD's wouldn't have tried this unless
they intended to take everything they could put their hands on, and they
certainly couldn't have put all this in their pockets." He rubbed one
big finger over the tip of his nose. "Okay, Barton, that's all. Take
those two kids to the hospital and book 'em in the detention ward. I
want to talk to them when they wake up."

The cop nodded and left.

Sergeant Cowder looked back at Harry. "Your alarm to the precinct
station went off at six thirty-six. I figure that whoever was on the
outside, in that truck, knew something had gone wrong as soon as the
fight started in here. He--or they--shut off whatever the