my post of duty as rapidly as possible."
"Sure," said Doan. "Through rain and snow the postman always rings
twice."
"What?" said Harriet Hathaway. She watched him narrowly for a
moment. "Are you intoxicated?"
"Just slightly dizzy," Doan answered.
"It's probably because the sun has been so bright today. You should
pull your windshield visor down when it glares. That's what it's for. But
to go back to this horrible person who gave me the ride. He was a
slacker. He admitted it!"
"How interesting," said Doan.
"Interesting! It's criminal! If I only knew his name I'd report him. I
asked him what he was doing to serve his country in this emergency
and he said, 'Nothing.' I asked him what he intended to do in the future
and he said, 'Less.' Have you ever heard of anything like that?"
"Never in my life," said Doan. "Did you tell him you were going to join
the WAACs?"
"Yes."
"What did he say to that?"
"He asked me if they knew it."
"Do they?"
"Well, no. I put in an application, but they haven't replied to it.
Naturally they'll accept me."
"Naturally," Doan agreed.
"I told that to this horrible person. I told him that no matter how
degrading and disgusting the work they assigned me might be, I would
smile and serve."
"What did he say to that?"
"He just said, "Oh, God,' in a very disgusted tone. I didn't mind the
profanity, although I think it's bad taste. It was the sentiment behind it I
disapproved of. I told him so, very emphatically. I explained to him the
duties and responsibilities we owe our country for the glorious
privilege of being one of its citizens."
"Then what?"
"He stopped the car and told me to get out. He said he wanted to vomit,
and he always vomited in private if he could manage it. He literally
pushed me out! Right on this deserted road in the middle of the desert!
And then drove off and left me!"
"You said you didn't know his name," Doan remarked. "Haven't got
any idea where he hangs out, have you?"
"No. Are you going to try to find him and teach him to respect patriotic
American womanhood?"
"Well, not exactly," Doan said. "I think maybe I could use a slacker
like he is in my business--"
"What is it--your business?"
"It's rather confidential."
"Oh!" said Harriet Hathaway, thrilled. "It's government work, isn't it?"
"Not unless you're thinking of a different government than I think you
are."
"Oh, I know you can't say anything about it," said Harriet
understandingly. "I'll just bet you're an agent of some kind or other."
"Of some kind or other," Doan agreed. "Other, to be strictly accurate."
"You can trust my discretion, Mr. Doan. I know just What's that queer
noise?" She turned around. "There's a dog in your back seat!"
"I noticed that," Doan told her.
"He's awfully big."
"Yes," said Doan.
"He's snoring--"
Doan sighed. "Yes."
"He's a Great Dane--"
"So his pedigree says."
"I don't like Great Danes. They're stupid, and they're a nuisance."
"You're telling me."
"Then why did you buy this one?"
"I didn't. I won him in a crap game."
"I don't believe in gambling. You might lose."
"I did," said Doan. "The only trouble was that I didn't know it at the
time. I thought I'd won something pretty fancy until I got him home and
he started sneering at me and snubbing me because I didn't have a
ten-room suite in the penthouse of the Park-Plaza Hotel."
"I know. Then, later, you grew so fond of him and he of you that you
couldn't part with him."
"What?" said Doan. "Fond? I detest him, and he despises me."
"Oh, no," said Harriet confidently. "Dogs always love their masters."
"Explain that to Carstairs sometime when you're not busy. It would be
an interesting new theory to him."
"Does he always sleep like this?"
"Turn around again," Doan said.
Harriet turned around. Carstairs' broad, blunt muzzle was just a half
inch from the end of her nose, and his eyes were fiery greenish slits
staring unblinkingly into hers.
"Oh!" she gasped.
"Relax, stupid," said Doan.
The rear seat springs bonged as Carstairs hurled himself back into the
cushions again.
"Oh," said Harriet, swallowing. "Oh."
"He gets resentful when people make disparaging remarks about him,"
Doan explained.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't know he could understand... Why, he can't
understand! Dogs can't understand what people are saying!"
Doan shrugged. "Okay."
"You signaled him some way. I know! You mentioned his name!"
"Have it your way..."
"Well, I don't like him--"
"He'd feel insulted if you did. What did this horrible person who picked
you up in Masterville look like?"
"Well, he was tall and skinny and unhealthy looking,
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