The General was in mufti. He stood briefly within the entrance of Models and Miniatures, Inc. , feeling a mild envy of the civilians who brushed past him, coming and going. They looked so easy, so relaxed, so casual in posture and dress. He was wistfully aware of the West Point ramrod that was his spine, the razor-edged bandbox neatness of his banker's grey suit, the Herbert Hoover four-squareness of his homburg, the stiff-symmetry of his dark-blue fore-in-hand. He found compensation in visualiz

The sight of the huge olive-drab Cadillac limousine with its two-starred flag and white trimmed and be-fourragered sergeant-chauffeur seemed to awe Toby, who lapsed into mere occasional monosyllables during the drive through the late afternoon to his Long Island home. It was as if, since the General was in mufti, the lad had not quite been able to believe in his reality—until official car and chauffeur offered proof. This was quite all right with the General, who was desperately trying to rearra

The General said, "MacReedy, why are you showing me this? I could be an imposter, a spy." "With that official limousine?" the model-maker countered. "I doubt it. Besides, Toby vouches for you." "Risky," said the General. "Besides," said MacReedy with the suggestion of a smile, "I've seen your picture in Life magazine." He paused, added, "After all, in my humble way I'm a bit of an ordnance nut myself." "I don't believe you," said the General flatly—"I mean about working these things out through

When he was driven up to the Long Island chalet early that afternoon, the General was pleased to see a command car parked unobtrusively off the road, a sentry sitting in an impromptu sentry-box made of pine bows, that commanded a good view of the approaches. At least, he thought, They wouldn't find MacReedy easy to get at. According to the reports he had seen there had been no further attempts. Toby opened the door. He said, "Hello, General, this is fine. We were going to send you a message toni