The first was Smith, who was dismayed when Remo told him that Wesley Pruiss was talking about dropping the solar energy project.

"We can't let that happen," Smith said dourly.

"It won't," Remo said. "Ruby back yet?"

"Not for another week."

"Tell her I got a new job for her if she wants it," Remo said.

"What is that?" Smith asked suspiciously.

"I know a guy. I can get her in as a Grossie Girl."

The second telephone call came from Theodosia.

"You know," she told Remo, "you're not as dumb as you look."

"I know," said Remo. "It's one of my crosses in life, people thinking I'm just another pretty-face."

"Anyway, I'm working on Wesley. I'll get him to change his mind on the solar power."

"I know you will," Remo said. "When?"

"Can you start in the morning?" she asked.

"Be there," Remo promised.

The early morning sun turned Furlong County into a picture postcard. It shone gold off the roofs of the small, neat buildings and almost whitened the fields of early wheat. The small fishing lakes glinted metallically, looking like pits of piled up diamonds. As the sun came over the trees, it sparkled off the dew the night had deposited on the practice putting green in front of the Furlong Country Club.

Pruiss was in the middle of the green, lying in a hospital bed. The imprints of its wheels had pressed deep into the tightly packed grass of the green.

The three bodyguards stood at three different points around the green, facing away from Pruiss. The mercenary colonel and small arms expert were carrying their favorite weapons. The karate man was carrying sirakens, the pointed silver throwing stars, and prowled nervously back and forth over about three feet of the green's perimeter.

Theodosia stood alongside Pruiss's bed, next to a dark-skinned man wearing a jeweled Nehru jacket and a turban with a red stone in the front of it.

As Remo and Chiun approached, the man grabbed the bottom of Pruiss's bed and rolled it around so that the rapidly-rising sun shone directly in Pruiss's eyes.

The mercenary colonel did not notice Remo and Chiun until they were standing next to him. His hand moved to the trigger guard on his gun.

"Easy," Remo said, "we're on the same team."

"Miss Theodosia," the man called in his brisk accent. She looked up and saw Remo and Chiun.

"It's all right, Colonel," she said.

The colonel relaxed his finger grip, but still looked suspiciously at Remo and Chiun. People who came upon him that silently could be up to no good.

"Who's the twerp?" Remo asked him.

"Don't know," the colonel said. "Some bleedin' Indian mystic, I hear."

Wesley Pruiss had the same question.

"Theodosia, who the hell is this?"

The little Indian spoke.

"Rachmed Baya Bam, at your service, sirrrr."

Pruiss ignored him.

"Theo, who is he?"

"He's the head of the Inner Light Movement," she said.

"I gave at the office," Pruiss said.

"Very funny," Rachmed Baya Bam said in his clipped, high pitched voice. "The sahib has a very keen sense of the humorous. So do I, Rachmed Baya Bam, chosen by the Almighty to be the head of the Inner Light Movement. I am the man who harnesses the strength of the sun, the peace force of the universe, the creator of all that is good and strong. That is what I do, sirrr," he told Pruiss. He hissed his s's as he spoke.

"Rachmed has come to help," Theodosia said.

"Yeah," Pruiss said in disgust. "To help himself."

"Wesley, give him a chance," Theodosia said. "Can it hurt?"

Baya Bam paid no attention to her. He slowly lifted the covers on the bottom of Pruiss's bed, exposing the publisher's pale, thin legs to the sunlight.

He stood alongside the foot of the bed and turned his face to the sun. He raised his hands above his head and began to chant. There were occasional words in English but most of the words Remo could not understand.

"What's he saying, Chiun?" asked Remo.

"He is saying nonsense," Chiun said.

Baya Bam switched to English.

"Oh, almighty power of the golden orb, bring the strengthness and goodness of your peace force into these legs. Bring life where there is no life. Bring strength where there is only weakness."

Pruiss turned his face away from Baya Bam. The look on his face would have been appropriate if he had seen the man eating spiders.

Baya Bam laid hands on Pruiss's legs. He kneaded the muscles, then reached his hands above his head again toward the sun, as if refilling their supply of strength, and then reached down quickly, gripping Pruiss's calf muscles and squeezing hard.

Pruiss winced.

"Ouch," he said.

Theodosia squealed and threw her arms around his shoulders and kissed his face.

"Wesley, you felt it. You felt it," she said excitedly.

"Huh," said Pruiss.

"Don't you see?" she said. "You felt his pressure on your legs. They're not dead anymore."

Pruiss looked stupid for a moment, then smiled and turned toward Rachmed Baya Bam. But the small Indian had turned his back to Pruiss and was again looking at the sun, now well above the string of trees bordering the first fairway of the golf course.

"Oh, holy globe," Baya Bam said. "We thank you in the glory of your power and in showing us the way of the inner light. And we thank you for opening the eyes of this unbeliever to show him that all things wait for him who leads the good life and who glorifies your power and virtue. All hail, oh, golden one."

He turned back and told Theodosia. "That is enough for now. We can do no more today."

"I felt it," Pruiss said. "I felt it. He squeezed my legs and I felt it." He looked around to the bodyguards to share his good news with them, but, professionally, they had their backs turned to him. He saw Remo and Chiun and greeted them with a smile.

"I felt it," he said.

"Yes, Wesley," Theodosia said. "We know."

She called to the three bodyguards. "All right, let's get Mr. Pruiss inside before he catches a chill." She pulled the bed's covers down over his legs. The three guards came and began rolling the bed away.

She followed them but stopped to say to Remo, "I have to give Wesley the pain pills for his legs."

Rachmed Baya Bam still stood facing the sun in the center of the putting green. Remo decided that if you put knickers and a turban on a gorilla, there would still be no trouble finding some people to call it a holy man.

"Do you want to talk to him, Chiun?" asked Remo.

"No," said Chiun.

They went into the big building. They heard Rachmed Baya Bam following them, almost running to keep up.

They all walked past the three bodyguards, who stood in the hallway outside Pruiss's room, and went inside. The publisher's face broke into a smile when he saw the Indian. He nodded coolly toward Remo and Chiun. "I guess you two can stay too," he said.

Baya Bam stood at the side of Pruiss's bed.

"Guru," Pruiss said. "I want to thank you. You've given me my first taste of hope."

"Sirrr," Baya Bam said. "It has nothing to do with me. I am merely the vessel through which the sun's power is poured."

"A fraud," Chiun told Remo. "Next he'll be saying that he's the sun source."

"The sun is the source and I am merely the conduit through which it flows," the Indian said.

"See," said Remo. "At least he's more modest than you."

"He should be," Chiun said.

"Anything I can have, guru, you can have," Pruiss said.

Baya Bam smiled, a smile Remo recognized as that of a man who had wired aces in a game of stud poker.

"The sun will make you whole," Baya Bam said, "because the sun can do all things. So should you not share that goodness with all people?"

Pruiss looked dumb for a moment, then asked, "Solar energy?"

"Yesss," said the Indian. "The sun can cure you and it will do that to make you ready for your mission in life. To bring the sun and its power to all the people of the world for their betterment."