"I'll wreck us all if you don't give those back!" He grabbed Snader's
hand.
Ann screamed as the car swerved, and horns blared from behind. Snader
clapped the capsules into his mouth and gripped the wheel with both
hands.
"I take what I want," he said, gulping down the pills. "You give
trouble, I turn you over to police."
* * * * *
Jeff slumped down with a groan and buried his face in his hands to hide
a grin. It had worked. How long would the nembutal take to hit Snader?
It might act too fast. Jeff wondered what he could do then.
Luckily, there was only a short distance to go. Even so, the car was
weaving as they whirled off the express road into Green Thru-Way. When
they pulled up in front of the barred house, Snader tumbled out and
lurched up the walk without a glance at his prisoners.
Jeff and Ann followed, and Jeff stood close behind while Snader fumbled
inside his shirt for the key. When he found it and reached toward the
door, his knees buckled and Jeff caught him.
"The key, Ann," Jeff whispered. "Pull the cord over his head and unlock
the door."
Ann clawed at it while Jeff supported the weight of Snader's body. In a
moment, she had the door open and they were inside.
The old housekeeper bustled in as Jeff half-dragged and half-lifted
Snader across the living room.
"It's nothing serious," Jeff told her calmly. "He often has these
attacks. He'll be all right in a few minutes, and then I'll start him
off home."
"Oh, the poor man," she clucked. "Such a ghast. Can I get you anything?"
"Get us some hot water, mixed with mustard and soda," Jeff said, hoping
this would keep her busy for several minutes. She hurried away.
Ann unlocked the door into the inner room and Jeff lugged the slave
trader inside. On the two screens, the endless chair-lined corridors
still fled toward them.
When the door clicked shut, Jeff let Snader slide to the floor. Swiftly
he went through the man's pockets and felt in the lining of his clothes
for hidden documents. Papers, wallet, car-keys, a big stiff card that
seemed to be some kind of passport--Jeff stuffed everything into his
own pockets.
"Hurry, Jeff," Ann begged. "Why waste time emptying his pockets?"
"So he can't come back and bother us," Jeff said. "I'm sending
this joker on a one-way ride. He'll never be able to prove to the
authorities who he is."
* * * * *
Several pictures hung on the wall. Jeff jerked them down and used the
wire to tie Snader's feet and wrists. He tore some draperies to bind
him tighter. When the body was trussed like a turkey, Jeff heaved it
to his shoulder. With one lunge, he threw the unconscious man straight
into the screen. Snader vanished.
"What happens when he wakes up?" Ann shakily wanted to know.
Jeff dusted himself off. "He's headed to the end of the line," he said
harshly. "Remember? He told us about it. Without credentials, he'll
land in the convict gang, down around the year 600 A.D. That's
a bad time on this continent. Men who work there don't return--they
help build back the time groove."
Ann smiled triumphantly. "Good for you! He deserved it. Imagine running
a commercial kidnaping enterprise! And now we can ride home, can't we?"
Jeff, beginning to enjoy himself, shook his head. "Not just yet. First
I've got a date with Mr. Bullen."
When they rapped on Bullen's door, Kersey welcomed them with an amused
smile.
"We thought you would be back," he purred. "Where is Snader?"
Jeff brushed past him to the drawing room, where Bullen sat by the
window.
"I've decided to help you, Bullen," Jeff said.