ly not," he said. Wilbur had a hunch that this time there would
be nothing extraordinary to alter the case.

"I've tried everything," he told Merlin. "I've gone to psychologists,
read books, even tried Yoga. Nothing helps."

"Naturally," Merlin said. "I'll tell you why: Everyone is a mixture of
traits handed down from his ancestors. Somewhere in every man's ancestry
is a brave person. Even if that bravery is hidden, it's still there, and
it can be brought out."

"What happened to me?" Wilbur wanted to know.

"You got cheated," Merlin said as though he were immensely pleased. "You
got only half the traits, and they were the cowardly ones. That's why
you couldn't be cured. There was no bravery in you to be brought out."

"Oh," Wilbur gulped. "I guess I'd better be going." He started to rise.

"Sit down," Merlin said. Wilbur plunked back into the sofa. He watched
Merlin walk to the stand and lift the glass ball. The old man peered
into the ball and its color changed to rose, then purple. Something was
going on inside it but Wilbur couldn't see what.

"Who's this fellow Pete Bellows?" Merlin wanted to know.

Wilbur was astonished. He hadn't mentioned Pete's name. When he told the
old man who Pete was Merlin chuckled.

"Thinks he's quite a man with the ladies, doesn't he? I'll fix him."

Merlin made a pass over the glass ball and muttered a few words which
Wilbur didn't catch. There was a sudden thump, clearly audible to
Wilbur, and Merlin chuckled gleefully.

"What happened?" Wilbur asked.

"The door opened just as he was going by and he walked into the edge of
it. He's got a black eye."

"Good-bye," Wilbur said. The hair on the back of his neck was standing
on end as he moved toward the door of the room.

"Come back here," Merlin commanded. "You want me to make you brave,
don't you?"

Wilbur's mind whirled. He had fallen into the hands of this old madman
and now he didn't know how to get away. Who knew what might happen to
him? He had to think of something.

"What do you charge?" he asked. No matter what Merlin said Wilbur was
prepared to say he didn't have that much. In no way was he prepared for
Merlin's words.

"Your right eye."

* * * * *

A cold sweat formed on Wilbur Mook's brow. His teeth chattered. Down at
his little toe a tremor started and worked its way up along his spine.
The roof of his mouth turned dry as dust and his throat was parched.

"I haven't got