"I guess I did steal it," the driver said, "if you want to be technical
about it."
"And I do," the judge said. "Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"Well," the driver reflected, "I didn't exactly steal it with malice
aforethought. That is I wasn't even thinking about stealing it until
Pillsworth came along and asked me about it."
"Don't tell me this Pillsworth persuaded you to take the bus?"
"Well, the money was quite an inducement."
* * * * *
For a moment, the judge appeared to brood into space, then, decisively,
he turned to Sergeant Feeney.
"Wake this Pillsworth monster up," he said.
"Yes, your honor," the sergeant said and advanced toward Marc.
"I'll help," Floss said, joining him. "I'll loosen his tie."
"Thanks, miss," the sergeant said. "And I'll rub his wrists."
The court became quiet with speculation as Floss and the sergeant
labored to arouse Marc. The stillness was soon shattered, however, as
the door at the rear flew open and Julie, followed by Mario, flew down
the aisle, her eyes ablaze.
"Stop!" she yelled. "Stop everything!"
"Madam!" the judge said, "the court is in session!"
"That's just fine," Julie said. She looked around wildly. "Where is he?
Have you got him under restraint?"
"Have we got whom under restraint?"
"My husband, Marcus Pillsworth. Is he tied up?"
"He's under arrest," the judge said. "Should he be under restraint,
too?"
"Should he!" Julie said. "He's mad! He tried to shoot us and when that
didn't work he chased us with this frightful bus!"
"How awful!" the judge said. "Your husband appears to be a one-man
crime wave."
"Then he took the silver and my jewelry!" Julie nodded. She turned to
Mario. "Isn't that right, Mario?"
"Yes, Madonna," Mario said.
The judge shook his head. "Your husband hasn't missed a trick today. I
never saw anyone so hell-bent for criminality."
"I want a divorce!" Julie cried. "I...."
The judge held up a hand. "Just a minute!" he cried. "I'm losing
track." He consulted the sheaf of reports before him. "Now, taking it
from the beginning, your husband's crimes, since only this morning,
include possession of lewd pictures, jail breaking, destruction of
private property, resisting arrest, disturbing the peace, assaulting
seven officers, collusion in an automobile theft, lewd and immoral
conduct, two attempts at murder, harboring criminals and, now, grand
larceny and perhaps an insurance swindle." The judge paused for breath.
"That's just hitting the high points."
"I want a divorce!" Julie insisted.
"You certainly shouldn't have any trouble getting one," the judge said
firmly.
The skinny nudist, stirred uneasily. "Your honor," he said timidly,
"what about our leaves? Now, they're beginning to dry out. They may
even fall!"
The judge started, banging the gavel with reflexive nervousness. "Your
leaves are entirely your own responsibility!" he snapped. "If they're
drying out, then just don't rustle them."
"That doesn't allow us much freedom of movement," the nudist said.
"From what I've heard, that's probably all for the best. And if I hear
any rustling I'll know what to make of it." The judge turned back to
Julie. "After your husband answers the charges...."
At this point, Marc, responding to treatment, sat up and opened his
eyes. He looked around at the assemblage and smiled bewilderedly.
"Fiend!" the judge thundered.
"Hold him back!" Julie screamed. "Don't let him near me!"
Marc started violently, and Floss put out a hand to steady him.
"Get your sticky hands off that man!" a voice hissed.
* * * * *
Everyone turned in surprise to see Toffee, newly reinstated to the
realm of reality, move forward.
"I was only tryin' to help," Floss said defensively.
"I saw you palm that wallet," Toffee said hotly. "Put it back, you
camp-following kewpie before I crack your plaster!"
"Okay," Floss said, replacing the wallet, "but I guess I've got as much
right to him as you."
"You've also got a right to be carried out of here feet first!" Toffee
said. Doubling her fists, she stepped forward. "What kind of flowers do
you want on your coffin?"
"Why, you redheaded hellcat...."
The gavel banged thunderously. "Just what's going on here?" the judge
roared, leaning across the bench. He pointed to Toffee. "How did you
get in here?"
Toffee moved sinuously toward the bench. "Don't upset yourself with
worrisome details, judge," she smiled. "Let's just stop flubbing around
here and get on the ball."
"What!" the judge yelled.
"You're far too upset to handle the situation sensibly. Anyone can see
that."
"Are you in contempt of court?" the judge wheezed.
"Please don't ask me that, judge," Toffee said sweetly. "Let's be
friends."
"Now, look here...."
"Be calm, judge!" Toffee said. "If you don't settle down we'll have to
find someone else. Now, who's being charged with what around here?"
"Who is that woman?" Julie demanded sharply.
Toffee smiled at her winsomely. "It would only upset you to know,
dear," she murmured.
The gavel banged again, announcing that the judge had regained the gift
of speech. "Silence in the court!" he bellowed. He turned eyes heavy
with vexation on Toffee's pert face. "If I give you a resume of the
court's activities until the awful moment of your intrusion, will that
make you feel sufficiently included in things?"
"That would be fine, judge," Toffee said pleasantly.
"God in heaven!" the judge moaned and took a deep breath. In a rumbling
voice he enumerated again the list of Marc's crimes. As he did so,
Marc's expression became more and more incredulous.
"But that's not true!" he cried out. "Almost none of it, judge!"
"Certainly it isn't," Toffee said. "In the first place, those lewd
pictures were planted on him."
"That's right, judge," Hotstuff said contritely. "I eased 'em onto him."
"And he didn't wreck any store, either," Toffee said hotly. "It was the
sergeant and his clumsy chums. As for assaulting them, I'd be happy to
oblige."
"And about the bus," Marc said. "I hadn't any reason to suspect it was
stolen."
"I guess that's right, judge," the driver said sadly. "I didn't tell
him it wasn't mine."
"There's something else you didn't get straight, judge," the skinny
nudist said. "His behavior wasn't lewd or immoral. It was just that he
had his clothes on. Naturally, we were upset."
"He wasn't shootin' at anyone, either," Moose put in. "He was just
tryin' to stop us."
"Wait a minute!" the judge yelled. "In a minute you'll be trying to
tell me this Pillsworth is a saint." He coughed excitedly. "I'm pleased
that you've all decided to incriminate yourselves, but you still
haven't succeeded in clearing Pillsworth. There are still the charges
of jail breaking and jewel robbery." He levelled his gaze on Marc.
"What have you got to say to that?"
* * * * *
Marc's interest, however, had been diverted by Hotstuff, who, for the
past several minutes had been staring with unbroken fascination at
Mario. Overlooking Hotstuff's begonia infested shorts, Marc followed
the pickpocket's gaze across the courtroom.
The first thing Marc noticed was that Mario was not comfortable under
Hotstuff's curious stare. The second was a large birthmark, roughly the
shape of an eagle, on Mario's forearm.
"My word!" Marc murmured.
"Mr. Pillsworth!" the judge said. "Would you mind giving your attention
to the court?"
"Oh, yes, your honor," Marc said, "I was just noticing the birthmark on
Mr. Matalini's arm. Its resemblance to an eagle is remarkable."
"Birthmark?" the judge said, glancing at Mario. "What birthmark?"
"Well, judge," Marc said, "you can't see it. But with my eyes the way
they are...."
"Mayfair Marvin!" Hotstuff ejaculated loudly. "Well, I'll be damned!"
"You be quiet!" the judge said. "No one asked you anything."
"But I'm telling you something!" Hotstuff said excitedly. "That guy is
Mayfair Marvin with a dye job and a moustache. He's one of the hottest
international jewel thieves in the racket!"
"What!" the judge said. "Isn't there anyone innocent in this court?"
Mario, who had suddenly lost his ruddy complexion, edged toward the
exit. "That's preposterous!" he said.
"Yeah?" Hotstuff drawled. "Let's check that birthmark with the official
descriptions." He turned to Julie. "If you want to know where your
jewelry is, lady, just ask this bum."
Stricken, Julie turned to Mario, who refused to meet her gaze.
"How about it, Marvin?" Hotstuff said. "Do you fork over the rocks or
do I tell the court about that job in London when...."
"All right!" the bogus Mario said weakly. He turned to Julie. "If you
look under the hedge at the end of the drive you'll find your jewelry
buried there. I meant to come back for it later, after a fortuitous
call to the bedside of my dying mother."
"Sergeant Feeney," the judge said, "grab that man and have him locked
up."
"Yes, your honor," Sergeant Feeney said and, taking Mario by the arm,
relievedly escorted him from the room. As he did so, Julie buried her
face in her hands and began to cry.
"There!" Toffee said elatedly, turning to the judge, "you see? There
goes another charge!"
"There's still the one of jail breaking," the judge said spitefully.
"It simply means that the charges, instead of being centralized with
one man, are now more evenly distributed. In a minute now I'm going to
start throwing sentences around here like rice at a wedding. The lot of
you--with the exception of Mrs. Pillsworth--can start planning a nice
long retirement."
* * * * *
As the judge leaned down to study and rearrange the reports before him,
Toffee turned quickly to Marc.
"Do you still have the elixir?" she asked.
"Huh?" Marc said, his eyes on Julie.
"The elixir," Toffee said. "Give it to me!"
"Oh, that," Marc murmured. He reached into his pocket, extracted the
partially filled bottle and handed it over. "Here."
"Thanks," Toffee said. She advanced happily to the bench and stood for
a moment gazing soulfully into the judge's scowling countenance.
"If you need some help," she said demurely, "I'll be glad to give you a
hand. You'll probably never figure it out all by yourself."
"What!" the judge said, infuriated.
"Well, let's face it," Toffee said innocently, "with a muckle-head like
you running the show we'll never get anywhere."
"You _are_ in contempt!" the judge screamed. "I thought so all along!"
"Well, you must admit it's a pretty contemptible court," Toffee said.
"Nothing personal, judge, but...."
"Silence!" the judge cried. "Don't say another word or I may have
to send myself up for murder! I...." The rest was lost in a fit of
coughing.
Quickly, a triumphant gleam in her eye, Toffee reached to the water
pitcher at the side of the bench, emptied the elixir into it and poured
a draft for the judge.
"Here, judge," she said, "pull yourself together."
The judge drained the glass and, closing his eyes, leaned back in his
chair. Through the ensuing silence, Toffee returned to Marc's side.
"His honor may see things a little differently now," she mused.
"Why should he?" Marc said angrily. "All you've done is insult him."
"I also fed him the elixir."
"You--you gave him that!"
"In the water," Toffee nodded. "I hope it works."
"But it's unpredictable! There's no telling how he'll react."
"Any change," Toffee said, "is bound to be an improvement."
During this exchange, the judge seemed to have fallen into a doze.
For a time, while the court waited breathlessly, he remained still,
then he stirred. Drowsily, he opened his eyes and sat up. Looking
enormously refreshed, he surveyed the defendants before him blankly for
a moment and then, quite astonishingly, grinned with a sort of gentle
mischievousness. He looked around at Sergeant Feeney, who had just
returned from the cells.
"Well, hello, sergeant," he said. He made an inquiring gesture toward
the defendants. "Who are all these attractive people?"
"Huh?" grunted Sergeant Feeney. "Why they're bein' tried, your honor."
"Tried?" the judge said. "How do you mean?"
"You're tryin' them, that's all," Sergeant Feeney said, puzzled.
"I am!" the judge said. "Then I must stop it instantly. I assume that
when you say they're being tried, you mean someone has been very trying
with them. I can see, now that you mention it, they look a bit put out.
Well, we'll have to do something about that." He smiled at Marc and
Toffee and the others with winning graciousness. "I want you to know
that I'm grateful to you all for coming today, and I'm sorry if I've
bored you." He turned back to Sergeant Feeney. "Have I been lecturing
on the life of the mollusk again, or something like that?"
* * * * *
Sergeant Feeney observed the judge quizzically. "Your honor, this is a
gang of desperate criminals and you're the judge who's...."
"Oh, no, no!" the judge laughed suddenly. "Oh, you're mistaken,
sergeant! I'm no judge." His expression, however, became thoughtful.
"It's curious, though, that you should think that, because I do have a
vague recollection that I once was a judge--though it may have been a
dream--and I wanted nothing more than to forget it. I got so weary of
having to be virtuous all the time. But, I'm sure it was only a dream.
Aren't you?"
"Your honor!" the skinny nudist said plaintively. "I really think
something ought to be done about our leaves!"
"Your leaves?" the judge asked.
"Yes, your honor. We need fresh ones desperately."
"My, my," the judge said admiringly, "don't you all look cool and
comfortable, though?"
"Huh?" the nudist said. "You mean you aren't sore at us any more for
being nudists?"
"Sore at you?" the judge said. "Why should I be sore at you? As a
matter of fact I'll tell you a little secret." Abandoning the bench and
descending to the floor, he lifted his robes to display a pair of bare
and knobby knees. "On warm days I never wear pants!" he chortled.
"My gosh!" the nudist said.
"Hey, what about us?" Hotstuff said. "Are you going to let them off and
send us up for taking pot shots at Mario?"
"Did you do _that_!" the judge said delightedly. "Of course I don't
know this Mario of yours, but I'm sure it did the scamp a world of good
to have his pot shot at." He looked around fondly at the assemblage.
"But what are we all doing indoors on a lovely day like this? Why don't
we all go on a picnic or something?"
"Then you mean we're all dismissed?" Toffee asked. "We can go?"
"Why certainly, you lovely child," the judge said benignly. "Run along
and get into some sort of beautiful mischief. And if there's anything I
can do to help...."
"You've already done it," Toffee said. She turned to Marc. "Come on!"
But Marc was watching Julie as she turned and started disconsolately to
leave the court.
"Julie!" he called. "Julie!"
"Hey, now," Toffee said, "don't tell me you're going to go chasing
after that thin blonde just because you married her once!"
Marc remained heedless. "Julie!" he cried, starting after her. "Wait a
minute!"
"Oh, yeah!" Toffee said and, deftly, she put her foot in front of his.
Marc shot out into space head first and came up abruptly against
the leg of a table. He dropped to the floor, made a small twitching
movement and went limp.
"Julie!" he murmured.
"That'll show you, you big stiff," Toffee said. "You can't just toss me
aside like a...."
And then, as Marc passed out, she, like the words she never finished,
faded away into nothing....
"What a stunning girl," the judge murmured thoughtfully. "There's
something so elusive about her."
At his side, Sergeant Feeney fainted dead away.
* * * * *
In his subconscious world of gently-sloping knolls and strange feathery
trees, Marc lounged on the cool greenness and smiled up at Toffee.
"Sometimes," he said, "I'm not certain which is truly real, this world
or the other."
"Reality is only relative," Toffee said sagely. "After all, if you
didn't believe in me, I wouldn't exist." She leaned down close and
brushed her lips across his. "You wouldn't even be able to feel my
kiss. Reality can be happy or sad, depending on how you look at it. If
you see only the happy side of things...."
She paused as the light began to flicker uncertainly in the glowing sky
above them. "It's time for you to go back now; I'll have to continue
this little sermon another time." She touched his cheek. "It's been a
lovely day, Marc. Goodbye--until we can do it all over again...."
"Goodbye," Marc said, "and thanks."
The light flickered again and was gone. Marc felt himself begin to
drift.
"Goodbye...."
* * * * *
"Marc!" the voice cried.
Marc looked up to find Julie bending over him. He was relieved to note
that she now appeared fully dressed.
"Oh, can you ever forgive me?" Julie said. "It was Mario who suggested
I take the jewels to the country--in case he needed them for the
portrait. And when we were out by the stream this afternoon...."
"Never mind," Marc said. "It's all over now, let's forget it. Will you
help me up?"
Taking his arm, Julie guided him to his feet.
"Look, dear," she said, "couldn't you drive back to the country with
me? A few days vacation wouldn't hurt too much, surely. You'd like to,
wouldn't you?"
"I'd love to," Marc said suddenly. He took her hand in his. "Let's go."
"You poor dear," Julie murmured. "I wonder how you stood it, with
everyone saying such awful things about you when you really hadn't done
anything at all."
Together, they left the court and started down the walk toward the
convertible.
As they left the city and started into the country, Marc pulled the car
over to the side of the highway and gave his attention to the drama of
the brilliant sunset.
"Well," he sighed, "there it goes, the first day of spring."
"Thank heavens," Julie said. "Now we can relax and enjoy it."
But there was still a question nagging at the back of Marc's mind.
"I was just thinking, dear," he said, "about your birthday...."
"Birthday!" Julie said. "But that's months away yet!"
"But, still," Marc said, "I was wondering what you'd like for a gift. I
thought maybe some nice pink lace underwear...."
"Pink lace underwear!" Julie said. She began to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Marc asked suspiciously.
"Darling," Julie said, "don't you remember the pink lace underwear
mother gave me for Christmas and how I loathed it? Well, I brought it
to the country where it wouldn't matter just so I could wear it out and
get rid of it."
Marc's relief came to the surface in a smile. "Then pink lace is out,
huh?"
"Definitely," Julie said. "But if you insist on lingerie, get me
something wicked and black. No true siren would ever dream of letting
herself be caught in pink."
Marc reached across the seat and drew her close to him. "In the spring
time," he said, "a young man's likely to get fancy."
The sun, on the horizon, slid conveniently out of sight and was gone.
As it did, a breeze blew lightly through the car and somewhere, it
seemed, there was laughter.