crum. He had his toe in his hand, and closed his fist with every ounce of muscle he had. The sorcerer screamed and fell over on his face. Peter jammed his knee in the wizard's inside socket and bore down terribly. He could feel the bones bend in his grip.
"Enough!" gasped the wizard. Peter let him loose.
"You made it," said Almarish. "Two out of three."
Peter studied his face curiously. Take off that beard and you had—
"You said it, Grandfather Packer," said Peter, grinning.
Almarish groaned. "It's a wise child that knows its own fathergrandfather, in this case," he said. "How could you tell?"
"Everything just clicked," said Peter simply. "You disappearing—that clock—somebody applying American methods in Ellil—and then I shaved you mentally and there you were. Simple?"
"Sure is. But how do you think I made out here, boy?"
"Shamefully. That kind of thing isn't tolerated any more. It's gangsterism—you'll have to cut it out, gramp."
"Gangsterism be damned!" snorted the wizard. "It's business. Business and common-sense."
"Business maybe—certainly not common-sense. My boys wiped out your guard and I might have wiped out you if I had magic stronger than yours."
Grandfather Packer chuckled in glee. "Magic? I'll begin at the beginning. When I got that dad-blamed clock back in '63 I dropped right into Ellil—onto the head of an assassin who was going for a real magician. Getting the set-up I pinned the killer with a half-nelson and the magician dispatched him. Then he got grateful—said he was retiring from public life and gave me a kind of token—good for any three wishes.
"So I took it, thanking him kindly, and wished for a palace and a bunch of gutty retainers. It was in my mind to run Ellil like a business, and I did it the only way I knew how—force. And from that day to this I used only one wish and I haven't a dab of magic more than that!"
"I'll be damned!" whispered Peter.
"And you know what I'm going to do with those other two wishes? I'm going to take you and me right back into the good old U. S. A.!"
"Will it only send two people?"
"So the magician said."
"Grandfather Packer," said Peter earnestly, "I am about to ask a very great sacrifice of you. It is also your duty to undo the damage which you have done."
"Oh," said Almarish glumly. "The girl? All right."
"You don't mind?" asked Peter incredulously.
"Far be it from me to stand in the way of young love," grunted the wizard sourly. "She's up there."
Peter entered timidly; the girl wad alternately reading a copy of the Braintree Informer and staring passionately at a photograph of Peter. "Darling," said Peter.
"Dearest!" said Melicent, catching on almost immediately.
A short while later Peter was asking her: "Do you mind, dearest if I ask one favor of you—a very great sacrifice?" He produced a small, sharp pen-knife.
And all the gossip for a
month in Braintree was of Peter
Packer's stunning young wife,
though some people wondered how it
was that she had only nine fingers.
