one these days. Thanks, Mike. If I find anything new in here,
I'll let you know."

"Do that," said Mike the Angel. "And, as a personal favor, I'll show you
how to build my own super-duper, extra-special, anti-vibroblade defense
unit."

Old Harry grinned, crinkling up his wizened face in a mass of fine
wrinkles. "You'd better think up a shorter name than that for it,
laddie; I could probably build one in less time than it takes you to say
it."

"Want to bet?"

"I'll bet you twenty I can do it in twenty-four hours."

"Twenty it is, Harry. I'll sell you mine this time tomorrow for twenty
bucks."

Harry shook his head. "I'll trade you mine for yours, plus twenty." Then
his eyes twinkled. "And speaking of money, didn't you come down here to
buy something?"

Mike the Angel laughed. "You're not going to like it. I came down to get
a dozen plastic-core resistors."

"What size?"

Mike told him, and Old Harry went over to the proper bin, pulled them
out, all properly boxed, and handed them to him.

"That'll be four dollars," he said.

Mike the Angel paid up with a smile. "You don't happen to have a
hundred-thousand-unit microcryotron stack, do you?"

"Ain't s'posed to," said Harry MacDougal. "If I did, I wouldn't sell it
to you. But, as a matter of cold fact, I do happen to have one. Use it
for a paperweight. I'll give it to you for nothing, because it don't
work, anyhow."

"Maybe I can fix it," said Mike the Angel, "as long as you're giving it
to me. How come it doesn't work?"

"Just a second, laddie," said Harry. He scuttled to the rear of the shop
and came back with a ready-wrapped package measuring five by five by
four. He handed it to Mike the Angel and said: "It's a present. Thanks
for helping me out of a tight spot."

Mike said something deprecative of his own efforts and took the package.
If it were in working order it would have been worth close to three
hundred dollars--more than that on the black market. If it was broken,
though, it was no good to Mike. A microcryotron unit is almost
impossible to fix if it breaks down. But Mike took it because he didn't
want to hurt Old Harry's feelings by refusing a present.

"Thanks, Harry," he said. "Happen to know why it doesn't work?"

Harry's face crinkled again in his all-over smile. "Sure, Mike. It ain't
plugged in."

4

Mike the Angel did not believe in commuting. Being a bachelor, he could
afford to indulge in that belief. In his suite of o