Wrong Analogy

we've invented a new gimmick for giving oxygen by injection. He's up there in his palace now tearing out his hair—or more probably hotfooting this way."

Red Brace leaned against the doorpost and grunted contentedly. "Boy, when I get my mitts on him."

"Red," Harvey said, "this time you can get as rough as you like. I don't care what happens to him. You keep a lookout at the window. Soon as Baker gets close, everybody take off your oxygen mask and stow it out of sight. We don't want him getting suspicious about the Lurie invention. Another thing: We'll need something for him to see when he walks in the door—a box that looks as if it contains some sort of instruments."

"I've got some boxes," Ruth said, going back into the bedroom.

"Okay. Now, Doc, you'll do the talking, and Red and I will do the grabbing. But look casual as hell when he walks in."

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