William Johnston - Get Smart Once Again!

She handed it back. “I’ve lost interest,” she said. “Why bother? We’re doomed, anyway. With Noman after us, we don’t have a chance.”

“There’s one thing you seem to forget,” Max said. “You are in the care of Control’s top agent-Max Smart.”

“Forget? That’s what makes me sure we’re doomed!” A tear trickled down her cheek. “My whole life has been wasted,” she wept.

“I don’t see how you can say that-you’ve known me.”

“Business, business, business,” Peaches sobbed. “All my life, I’ve kept my nose to the grindstone. And what’s it got me?”

“A short nose?”

“Nothing. Nothing but money and fame.”

“Fame?”

“In the world of cryptographers.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve missed out on the best part of life-romance,” Peaches wept.

“Actually, that’s not the best part,” Max said. “The best part is that instant when you get the shower adjusted exactly right and the water stops scalding you.”

“A waste!” Peaches wailed. “My whole life has been a waste!”

Max stopped the car.

“I thought you weren’t going to stop the car for anything.”

“This is an emergency,” Max replied. “Emergencies don’t count.”

“But why did you stop?”

“Somebody has to try to break that code,” Max said. “Since you won’t do it, I’ll have to. But I can’t break codes and drive, too. So, you’ll have to do the driving.”

“Oh, all right.”

Peaches got behind the wheel, and Max settled in the passenger’s seat. Then they started up again.

Max concentrated his attention on the Plan. “Let’s see… ‘Astor’. Now, the Astors have money-they must have, if they own a hotel. And ‘Mays’. Willie Mays, as I recall, is a highly-paid ball player. There we have ‘money’ again. Now-”

“Max, make a list for me, will you, please,” Peaches said.

“A list?”

“A list of all the romantic things I intend to do if I get out of this alive.”

“I’m busy with the code.”

“Just a little list. You can do both. I don’t want to forget any of these things.”

“Couldn’t you make a mental list?”

“The old me could have,” Peaches said. “But not the new me. The new me is an empty-headed blonde.”

Max got a sheet of notepaper from his notebook. “All right, but keep the list short,” he said.

“I’ll try. Put down: Fly to Rome, drop three coins in the fountain.”

“Got it,” Max said. “Now then, the code. We have Astor money, and Mays money. Oops! I forgot ‘Sad Al. Al, of course, is Al Capone-who was jailed for not paying income tax. And income tax suggests money.”

“Put down: Cruise to Bermuda,” Peaches said.

“Got it.” Max replied, shifting papers. “Okay now, where was I? Oh, yes. Three hotels in the fountain. Is that right?”

“We’re coming to the highway,” Peaches said.

“Fine. When we reach it, head for New York.”

“Put down: Dinner by candlelight.”

“Got it.”

“How are you doing on the code, Max?”

“So far, I have Al Capone taking a shower in a fountain.”

“How did you get that?”

“I’m not sure,” Max replied. “But what really puzzles me is that he’s doing it on a cruise to Bermuda. Are there many fountains on board ships these days?”

“I don’t know. But it sounds romantic,” Peaches giggled.

“Ah, well, let’s see,” Max said, concentrating on the Plan again. “Willie Mays by candlelight. No, that’s not right. What’s my next word? Oh, yes… Bronco Con. Con suggests a confidence game, which is usually played for money. And Bronco suggests horse. Horses are usually found at race tracks. And race tracks are where you bet money. So, we have money again.”

“Put down: Soft music.”

“Got it.”

“This highway seems familiar,” Peaches said.

“All highways seem familiar,” Max replied. “They’re all the same, a long stretch of concrete.”

“That must be it.”

“Al Capone betting his income tax money on a horse at the race track,” Max mused. “The name of the horse is ‘Cruise to Bermuda.’ And the name of the jockey is ‘Dinner by Candlelight.’ Then the name of the race track must be-”

“Washington, D. C.,” Peaches said.

“No, I don’t have that name on my list.”

“I meant that sign,” Peaches said, pointing.

Max looked. He saw a highway sign saying: Washington, D. C.

“We’re right back where we started from,” Peaches said.

“I told you to head for New York!”

“But you didn’t say which way New York was. How was I supposed to know? I’m an empty-headed blonde.”

“Well, we’re here now,” Max said disgustedly. “Drive into town and find the train station and we’ll take a train to New York. If you tried to drive us there, we’d probably end up in Moscow.”

“Or Peking,” Peaches giggled.

“Right.”

“Put down: Trip to Chinatown,” Peaches said.

“Got it.”

“Have you broken the code yet, Max?”

“I’m getting close,” Max replied. “I have Al Capone betting a fountain on a horse named ‘Candlelight in Bermuda.’ The horse is being ridden by a jockey named ‘Chinatown,’ who is taking a shower to Rome, where he intends to drop three coins in the soft music. How does that sound to you?”

Perfect!” Peaches said. “But then, I’m an empty-headed blonde.”

“I wish I were,” Max said. “As a level-headed brunette, it doesn’t make much sense to me.”

When Max and Peaches reached the train station, they parked the car, then went inside. The station was crowded. A red cap rushed up to them.

“Carry your bags, sir?” he said to Max.

“We don’t have any bags,” Max replied.

“Carry your Dooms Day Plan, then?”

“Why, yes,” Max said. He started to hand the Plan to the red cap-then stopped. “Oh, no you don’t! You’re-”

But the red cap quickly disappeared in the crowd.

“That was close!” Max said. “Do you know who that was?”

“I’ve never seen him before,” Peaches replied. “But he was sort of romantic-looking, wasn’t he?”

“That was Noman!”

“Oh, was it? I don’t remember him being so romantic-looking before.”

“Which only goes to prove the old saying: Romantic-looking is in the eyes of the beholder,” Max said. “From now on, keep an eye out for romantic-looking men. They’re Noman!”

They went to the ticket window, and Max addressed the agent. “We’d like to get a train to New York,” he said.

“Well, we have some nice tracks you could use,” the agent replied.

“Pardon?”

“Tracks,” the agent said. “You could try to get it there by bus, but I doubt that you could get it in the luggage compartment. Unless it’s a small train. Exactly how big is this train you want to get to New York?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Max replied. “It’s your train, not mine. Do you have a train going to New York?”

“Oh, yes, lots of trains going to New York,” the agent answered. “How would you like to go? By way of Philadelphia?”

“I’m not sure. How does your fastest train go?”

“The same as all the others,” the agent replied. “It goes: Choo-Choo-Choo!”

“Then that’s the one we’ll take,” Max said. “Two tickets, please.”

“Round-trip or one-way?”

“One-way,” Max replied. “We’ll probably fly back from Peking.”

“Sorry-we’re all out of one-way tickets.”

“Then give us a round-trip ticket and we’ll split it in two,” Max said. “I’ll use half, and the lady will use half.”

“All right. But she’ll be coming while you’re going.”