William Johnston: Sorry, Chief…

“But what, Max?”

“But I’m not entirely sure,” Max said. “And, it might be a little embarrassing if we charged Dr. X with keeping invisible guinea pigs in that locker, and, upon opening it, found nothing but a pair of old tennis shoes.”

99 nodded. “It would be hard to explain. So, what do we do, Max? Open the locker?”

“Right on the button, 99.”

“How, Max?”

Max turned to Fang. “Fang, run down to our stateroom, open the attache case, and bring me the gadget that looks like a ballpoint pen.”

“Rorff!”

“No, there is not time to stop for a sandwich on the way.”

Fang bounded off.

“That dog thinks of nothing but his stomach,” Max complained.

“Max,” 99 said, “you didn’t answer my question. How?”

“Simple, 99. We’ll rent the locker right next to the locker that contains the invisible guinea pigs. Then, using an acetylene torch, we’ll burn a hole between our locker and the pigs’ locker.”

“You mean the pen is-”

“Right-an acetylene torch.”

“That’s marvelous, Max!”

“Except when your signing checks,” Max said. “Then, it has its drawbacks.”

A few minutes later, Fang reappeared. He was carrying a ballpoint pen in his teeth.

“We’re on the threshold of success, 99,” Max said, taking the pen from Fang. He reached into his pocket, got out a quarter, and dropped it into the slot in the locker door that released the lock. The door swung open.

Max squeezed his head and shoulders and one arm into the locker.

“Stand back,” he said, “this torch may create a lot of heat.”

“We’re back, Max.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Max was heard grumbling.

“How are you doing, Max?”

“Wonderful. This pen writes beautifully. I just drew a gorgeous circle on the metal partition.” He backed out of the locker. “All right, Fang,” he said disgustedly. “You can take this pen back and bring me the torch!”

“Rorff!”

“I think you can manage it-if you just keep in mind what you’re looking for,” Max replied. “It says ‘torch’ on it.”

Once more, Fang bounded off.

Minutes later, Fang returned. This time, he had the torch. Again, Max wiggled as much of himself as possible into the locker. Then, a soft blue flame appeared inside the locker.

“Max… are you all right?” 99 asked worriedly.

“Never been better,” Max replied. “It’s quite cozy in here.”

A few minutes later, Max withdrew. “Done and done,” he announced happily.

“Max, your eyebrows are singed.”

“A small price to pay for entrance into that next locker,” Max said.

“Did you cut the hole, Max?”

“A perfect round circle.”

“Could you see into the next locker, Max?”

“Very clearly.”

“Max… what did you see?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Max replied. “Proof positive, I believe, that we’re on the right track.”

“What now, Max?”

Max put the torch into the breast pocket of his jacket. “Now,” he said, “I will reach through that hole and squeeze. And if we hear a squeal we will know that we have found six invisible guinea pigs.”

“Be careful, Max.”

“Caveat emptor, 99.”

“What does that mean?”

“That’s Latin, 99. It means, ‘Let the guinea pigs beware, I can take care of myself.’ ”

Carefully, Max reached into the locker, then, cautiously, he reached through the hole in the partition.

“Yiiiiiiiii!”

Max yanked his hand out.

“Was that a squeal, Max?” 99 said excitedly.

“No, 99-that was a shriek of pain,” Max said. “One of the little beggars bit me!”

“Wonderful, Max!”

“Yes, I suppose it is-depending, of course, on how you mean that.”

“I mean that’s all the evidence we need. Now we know that Wai is X.”

“99, couldn’t you put that another way?”

“All right. It means that Herbert Wai is really the diabolical Dr. X.”

“That’s better. The other way, it was a bit too much for even me to believe.” He closed the locker door, removed the key, and put it in his pocket. “Now,” he said, “we’ll confront the diabolical Dr. X with our knowledge of his true identity, and-”

“And what, Max?”

“-and see how the ball bounces,” Max replied. “Frankly, I’m not sure what we’ll do. Legally, Dr. X has every right to sell his formula to the highest bidder-even if that bidder is KAOS. We’ll just have to play it by ear.”

“You’ll think of something, Max,” 99 said. “I know you will.”

“I’m sure I will,” Max said. “The question is-will it work?” He shrugged. “Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Let’s go.”

Max led the way, and 99 and Fang followed close behind. They left the lounge, hurried down a stairway, and emerged on deck. Max increased the pace, and 99 and Fang trotted to keep up. A moment later, they entered the ballroom, and edged their way across the dance floor, dodging in and out between the couples. When they reached the other side of the ballroom, they stepped out on deck again. Once more, Max increased the pace. 99 and Fang ran to stay near him. They climbed a stairway, then entered a corridor. At the end of the corridor, they came upon another stairway, and headed downward.

“Are we getting close, Max?” 99 panted.

“I haven’t the faintest idea, 99,” Max replied. “Don’t you remember? We don’t know where Wai’s stateroom is.”

“Max… then… why are we running?”

“We haven’t got all night, 99. We have to find Wai-or X, as the case may be-get that formula from him, and get back to our cell before that waiter comes to.”

“Max… wouldn’t it be easier… if we found out where Wai’s stateroom is?”

Max halted. “Sorry,” he said. “Sometimes I get carried away.”

“Max, as the tour director, he wouldn’t be on the passenger list, but there must be a staff list,” 99 said. “If we could get hold of it, we could find out which stateroom Wai is occupying.”

“Wait a minute, 99-I have an idea. There must be a staff list. If we could just get hold of it, we could find out which stateroom Dr. X is occupying.”

“Max… that’s what I just said.”

“No, you said ‘Wai’. I said ‘Dr. X’. There’s a difference, 99.”

“Rorff!”

“It’s a subtle difference. I wouldn’t expect you to be able to see it. But,” he said graciously, “I won’t argue the point. We’ll just say that we both got the same idea at the same time.”

“All right, Max, I’ll accept that,” 99 said. “Now, what shall we do about it?”

“We’ll get the staff list,” Max replied. “Let’s see, who would have a copy of it? The Captain, I suppose. Yes-that’s what we’ll do. We’ll go to the Captain’s cabin, and Fang will go in and ask him for a copy of the staff list.”

“Won’t he think that’s a little odd, Max?”

“Of course not. He won’t recognize Fang. He’ll remember him as a sheepdog. And Fang is now a Mexican Hairless.”

“Then it may work,” 99 agreed.

“It’s a cinch-the flawless plan,” Max said. “Let’s go.”

They turned around and walked back up the stairway, then entered the corridor and hurried toward the end. But, when they were halfway along the way, a party of ship’s officers suddenly appeared at the end of the corridor.

“There they are-Stop!” the leader shouted.

“Max! They mean us!” 99 cried.

“Yes-look! That waiter we left in our cell! He’s with them!”

“They know we escaped!” 99 said.

“About face! Run for it!” Max shouted.

The three whipped around and raced back along the corridor.