As the afternoon wore on, the sun, glancing off the water, made my eyes burn and raised the shelter's temperature-and its stink-beyond endurance. I kept reaching for the cans of Seven Up but they continued to vanish.

Finally the sun was very low, boring into the cave in a last determined effort to get me. It won. I sank into a faint.

A hand was shaking me. "I think somebody is calling that other funny name you've got-Gris, Gris."

I stared up groggily. It was Madison. I felt annoyed. "For Gods' sakes, if you're going to say it, say it right.

What you are trying to enunciate as an English G is pronounced halfway between HA and TH with a throat rumble."

"No, no, listen!" said Madison. "Somebody is calling it."

I sat up. Yes! There it came from afar, "Officer Gris! Officer Gris!"

I scrambled to my feet. It was still daylight. The fools must be flying the tug around in daylight! They'd get us all exterminated for a Code break!

I started to rush out. Madison was thrusting something at me. My sack of money and papers. I grabbed it.

On flying feet I rushed from the cave. My feet didn't fly very long. I stepped on a stone. Agony!

Limping, I made my way along the goat path. I rounded the shoulder of the cliff. I came to the flat area. I stopped.

There sat the huge, bulletproof, 1962 Daimler-Benz, the red eagle blazing on its side!

There was Ahmed the taxi driver.

There was Ters the driver.

BUT THEY WERE DEAD!

I had killed them with a bomb!

Thirst and repeated shocks had caught up with me!

Now I was not only having delusions, I was also being haunted by ghosts.

Ters gave his evil laugh.

I fainted dead away.

When I came to it was dark.

I was lying on the fatal car bunk.

We were rolling along.

"He's come to." It was Madison's voice. He was in back with me. Ahmed was in the front seat beside Ters who was driving.

By the dim light coming up from the bar I could see Madison opening a paper sack. He uncapped a Coke and handed it to me. I propped myself on an elbow and drank thirstily.

"This is a nice car," said Madison. "A real antique. What's the eagle on the side stand for?"

"Folly," I said.

Ahmed in the front seat turned. "Glad you're awake. Have you been ill?"

He must still be alive. I could hear his voice. "Shock," I said.

"It'll do that to you," said Ahmed. "But you'll have time to recuperate. It's almost 225 miles to Afyon. Ters and I will take turns driving, we'll take it easy and we'll get you safely home."

"Oh, no!" I cried. "Don't take me there!"

"Why not?" said Ahmed. "Oh, by the way, I have a message from Doktor Muhammed Ataturk."

I stiffened. He meant Prahd Bittlestiffender, the young cellologist I had kidnapped on Voltar. "Is he after me, too?" I said.

"No, no," said Ahmed. "Of course not. We're all your friends, remember? The young doktor was the one who sent us out here to get you after Faht Bey turned your request down."

So that's how it was. It made me nervous. "What was the message?" I asked fearfully.

"Well, it's about Nurse Bildirjin, the young Turkish girl at the hospital. He said not for you to worry even for one second. He said to tell you he has everything fixed up."

Ters gave his evil laugh.

I concentrated on the message. Madison was pushing a sandwich at me. I followed it with a second Coke.

My wits began to work. Evidently Prahd had done an abortion on Nurse Bildirjin after all. Maybe her father had never even found out.

I felt optimistic, even reassured. Maybe this was going to turn out all right after all.

I fell asleep.

It was well after dawn before I awoke. They had evidently made more stops for they had more Cokes. Drinking one, I saw that we were rolling into Afyon.

They drove down some back streets and then into a broader road.

"Hey," I said, "you're not taking me to the villa. Where are you going?"

Ters, who was driving, gave his evil laugh.

He braked suddenly in front of a mosque.

He honked his horn.

Instantly the car was surrounded by a mob!

With horrified eyes I saw Nurse Bildirjin. She was very swollen with child.

HER FATHER! He was elbowing forward. HE WAS CARRYING A SHOTGUN!

With screams surging in my throat, I scrambled around trying to locate my machine gun. IT WAS GONE!

There was Prahd, his straw-colored hair standing up at all angles. He opened the car door and I cringed back. He got in. He looked at me with his bright green eyes.

"You tricked me!" I cried. "You lured me to my death!"

He closed the car door to shut out the mutter of the threatening crowd. "You are unduly alarmed," he said. "I have been trying to contact you for months. Thank Gods you came back in time. It would have been a terrible scandal if the baby had been born first."

"Born FIRST? Born before what?"

"I made a bargain for you. It is all arranged. The first part of the bargain was to start my pay. Is that agreed?"

Oh, (bleep) him, I couldn't officially start his pay. He was officially dead by my action on Voltar. But he had me on the spot. "All right," I said. Later I could delay it but right now this was an emergency.

"Next," he said, "is letting me take some time off from altering the identity of criminals and permit me to begin a campaign to cure prevalent diseases in Turkey and that you will finance it."

Who cared about this riffraff? And I could welsh on this. "All right," I said.

"The third part of the bargain I made," he continued, "concerned all these wives you violated. Many of them got pregnant, you know. The penalty is being stoned to death."

I flinched. I looked out the car window fearfully. Yes, some of those women were in the crowd! They had stones in their hands!

"I studied the Qur'an," said Prahd. "All their law comes from it, you know. And there's a thing called kaf­farah. Instead of suffering the legal punishment, one can escape it by private atonement. So I arranged that you would create a fund to feed the poor of each one of their villages for the next century. That will make the resulting children sort of holy and cared for."

The next century! Gods! Well, I could get out of that some way. Demand that it was only for the one-eyed poor or something. "All right," I said. "But what about Nurse Bildirjin and her father?"

"Oh, that was the easiest one of all," said Prahd. "All you have to do is marry her."

I knew I was going to faint again. But this was no time for fainting. I could recall too vividly her bony knees when he'd operated on my head! Madly I scrambled through my wits to find some way to overcome this threatened catastrophe. I had it!

"What if I was already married?" I cried.

"Well, I've been studying the Qur'an. The faithful are allowed four wives. And the same number of concubines." He smiled brightly. "So it doesn't matter what else you've been up to."

The whole world seemed to tilt before my eyes and then came straight. It hit me like a thunderbolt. Adora Pinch Bey and Candy Licorice Bey couldn't get a Moslem for bigamy. I was safe from them! Oh, my, would I be careful to say my daily prayers.

Still, life would be Hells around that vixen Bildir­jin. But I nodded.

I reached for the door handle. Then I saw the tattered state I was in. A pair of grimy jogging shorts, a sea-wrinkled suit jacket, bare and bleeding feet. I grasped at a reprieve. "I'll have to go home and get dressed first."

"No, no," said Prahd. "A Moslem marriage is not all that formal. It's even unusual to do them in a mosque but Nurse Bildirjin wanted it extra legal. Your clothes don't matter. Everything is waiting."

He opened the door and pushed me out. The silent crowd glowered at me. They were waiting for a signal from Prahd. He told them it was all agreed to. I heard some stones being dropped and people frowned. Nurse Bildirjin's father uncocked his gun.