William Johnston - Max Smart and the Perilous Pellets

Dr. Yeh! rushed up to Max. “Magic!” he gushed happily.

Max felt his body. “Did they all miss?” he asked.

“They didn’t shoot,” Dr. Yeh! replied. “They were too astounded. It’s Magic!”

“But I heard you yell ‘fire!’ ” Max said.

“I didn’t yell ‘fire!’ ” Dr. Yeh! replied. “I yelled ‘fire!’ ”

“Oh… is there a difference?”

“When I yelled ‘fire!’ I wasn’t ordering them to fire, I was exclaiming over the fire,” Dr. Yeh! said, indicating the lighter flame.

Max smiled. “Oh, yes, now I understand. I forgot there for a second that I’m among ignorant savages. When you saw the flame appear, you thought it was magic. The fact is, however, that that gadget is a quite common ordinary little gadget in civilized societies. There’s no magic to it.”

“Look who’s calling who an ignorant savage,” Dr. Yeh! replied. “What you don’t know about cigarette lighters! This one works the first time the button is pushed. That’s Magic!”

“Unusual, yes,” Max agreed. “But magic? I frankly-”

“Who’s the sheik around here!” Dr. Yeh! snarled. “I say it’s Magic!”

“All right. We won’t debate the matter,” Max said. “I think we’ve held up the execution long enough. Now, if you’ll just get those guards to their feet, and if you’ll just return to your own-”

“You’re trying to run the show again!” Dr. Yeh! said warningly.

Max raised his hands in a gesture of apology.

“The execution is off!” Dr. Yeh! beamed. “Instead, we’ll have a big party!”

“What’s the occasion?” Max asked.

“Who needs an excuse for a party?” Dr. Yeh! replied. He turned to 99. “Flung,” he ordered, “return to the ballet dancer place. Get the flingers together and report to my throne room. Tell them it’s Party Time. My American Advisor and I wish to be entertained. We will feast and we will tell tall stories and we will watch the ballet. And then-” He winked at Max. “-we will open the black bag and play marbles with the money!”

“Max…?” 99 said.

“Do what you’re told, flung,” Max replied.

99 scurried off. She was still carrying the black bag.

“Shall we adjourn to the throne room, American Advisor?” Dr. Yeh! smiled, putting an arm around Max’s shoulder.

“Why not?” Max replied. “It beats the firing squad.”

By the time Max and Dr. Yeh! reached the throne room it had already been transformed into a banquet hall. A sumptuous, banquet-style meal awaited them-chicken a la king, stale rolls, peas, stuffed celery, canned peaches, and warm milk. And not long after they had seated themselves at the table, the ballet troupe appeared.

“On with the ballet!” Dr. Yeh! cried.

The ballet began. 99 was the center of attraction. The flingers flung her from one side of the banquet hall to the other, always catching her just before she hit the floor.

“It’s magnificent,” Max said, not really paying much attention, but looking around for some place to plant a pellet.

“It’s good, yes,” Dr. Yeh! frowned. “But there’s something not quite right about that new flung.”

Max peered at 99, who was, at that moment, sailing through the air. “Maybe it’s because she’s carrying that black satchel,” he said.

“I think that’s it,” Dr. Yeh! agreed. “Somehow, it detracts from the usual grace of the dance.”

“It’ll do it every time,” Max said. “You get a ballet dancer carrying a suitcase and she’s all thumbs.”

Dr. Yeh! suddenly tugged at Max’s sleeve. “Watch! This is the climax!” he said.

Max concentrated on the gyrations of the dancers. He saw the flingers hurl the flung high into the air. Oddly, she appeared to be headed straight for the table.

“I think we’re going to have a guest,” Max said. “You should have set another place.”

“No. You see-”

At that moment, the flung hit the table. And Max understood why it would have been pointless to set another place. As the flung skidded toward them along the table top she cleared everything from her path, dishes, food and all. Then, as if it had been planned that way, she came to a stop directly in front of Max and Dr. Yeh!

“Magnifico!” Dr. Yeh! applauded.

Max removed his plate of chicken a la king from his lap. “Frankly, I’ve seen neater landings,” he said.

“Sorry about that, Max,” 99 apologized.

“Flung, you performed stupendously!” Dr. Yeh! said to 99. “And, as is the custom, to celebrate your triumph, you and I will exchange gifts.”

“Gee, I don’t really have much to give,” 99 said.

“You need only a bauble,” Dr. Yeh! replied. “According to the custom, when the sheik (that’s me) is pleased, he gives his most valuable possession to the one who has pleased him. And, in return, that person presents the sheik (that’s me) with a trinket of no worth at all.” He indicated Max. “This is my gift to you,” he said. “I make you a present of my American Advisor.”

“So much!” 99 gasped.

“It’s not that much,” Dr. Yeh! replied. “Soon we will open the black bag, and, after that, he will be of no use to me, anyway. Advice, I can get anywhere.” He smiled expectantly. “And now, what do you have for me?”

“Well…” 99 took a string of beads from around her neck… I do have these.”

“Perfect!” Dr. Yeh! beamed. “What could be more worthless to a sheik (that’s me)?”

99 placed the string of beads around Dr. Yeh!’s neck. “May I take my gift with me?” she asked.

“You don’t want it wrapped?”

99 shook her head. “I’ll carry it. I have a helicopter waiting right outside.”

Dr. Yeh! giggled. “Not only is she a talented flung, she’s got a sense of humor,” he said.

99 got Max by the hand. “Let’s go, Max!”

He resisted. “Not now, 99! Duty first.”

“Go with her,” Dr. Yeh! commanded. “But leave the black bag.”

“Oh, well, I have to take the bag with me,” 99 said. “I have my change of clothes in it. But I’ll bring it back later.”

Dr. Yeh! smiled again, but sinisterly this time. “Take the clothes out, and leave the bag here,” he said.

99 clung to the bag. “Max!” she hissed, tugging at him.

“No, 99!” he replied adamantly. “Plant first, run second.”

“Max,” she said grimly, “the pea has been planted!”

“Oh?” he replied, puzzled.

“What is that-the pea has been planted?” Dr. Yeh! scowled. “Some kind of code?”

“Yes, code,” Max replied. “You misunderstood what she said because of the code-the code in her head.” He turned to 99. “Sneeze,” he ordered.

99 sneezed.

“Something very strange is going on here,” Dr. Yeh! said. “But, I’ll overlook it. Just hand me the black bag.”

“Max!”

“Right, 99-run!”

Max and 99 dashed toward the exit, with 99 still hanging onto the black satchel.

“Guards!” Dr. Yeh! shouted.

Guards suddenly rushed in through the doorway.

“Seize them!” Dr. Yeh! cried.

Max and 99 whipped around and raced in the opposite direction. They charged through the doorway that led to the ballet dancer place.

“After them! Get the black bag!” they heard Dr. Yeh! shout.

“That way!” Max said, pointing toward a stairway.

They dashed up the stairs. Behind them they could hear the clatter of bootsteps. Another flight of stairs appeared, and they hurried upward once more. The clatter of bootsteps came nearer. They scrambled up another flight of stairs, then another. Then they reached a dead end.

“Max! What now?” 99 wailed.

Max ran to a sculpture of a ballet dancer. He pushed down on the dancer’s outstretched leg. The wall that formed a deadend suddenly rose, revealing an entrance to the roof. Quickly, Max picked up the sculpture, and he and 99 dashed through the opening. When they reached the roof, Max put the sculpture down, then quickly raised its leg. The wall lowered, sealing the opening.