The Common Man | Page 4

a seat and looked up at the doctor. "I suppose you admit I
was right." Her voice was crisp.
The other turned on her. "And just why do you say that?"
"This caviar bit. Our friend, Donald Crowley, has obviously walked
into the Gourmet restaurant, having heard it was the most expensive in
New York, and ate as much as he could stuff down of the most
expensive item on the menu."
The elderly little doctor pushed his battered horn-rims farther back on
his nose. "Tell me, Patricia, when you made the experiment, did you do
anything ... umah ... anything at all, that saved you some money?"
Uncharacteristically, she suddenly giggled. "I had the time of my life
riding on a bus without paying the fare."
Braun snorted. "Then Donald Crowley, in eating his caviar, did
substantially the same thing. It's probably been a life's ambition of his
to eat in an ultra-swank restaurant and then walk out without paying.
To be frank," the doctor cleared his throat apologetically, "it's always
been one of mine."
Patricia conceded him a chuckle, but then said impatiently, "It's one
thing my saving fifteen cents on a bus ride, and his eating twenty-five
dollars worth of caviar."
"Merely a matter of degree, my dear."
Patricia said in irritation, "Why in the world did we have to bring him
to New York where he could pull such childish tricks? We could have
performed the experiment right there in Far Cry, Nebraska."
Dr. Braun abruptly ceased the pacing he had begun and found a chair.
He absently stuck a hand into a coat pocket, pulled out a crumbled
piece of paper, stared at it for a moment, as though he had never seen it
before, grunted, and returned it to the pocket. He looked at Patricia
O'Gara. "We felt that on completely unknown territory he would feel

less constrained, don't you remember? In his home town, his
conscience would be more apt to restrict him."
Something suddenly came to her. She looked at her older companion
suspiciously. "That newscast. Was there anything else on it? Don't look
innocent, you know what I mean."
"Well, there was one item."
"Out with it," she demanded.
"The Hotel Belefonte threatens to sue that French movie star, Brigette
whatever-her-name is."
"Brigette Loren," Patricia said, staring. "What's that got to do with
Donald Crowley?"
The good doctor was embarrassed. "It seems that she came running out
of her suite, umah, semi-dressed and screaming that the hotel was
haunted."
"Good heavens," Patricia said with sudden vision. "That's one aspect I
hadn't thought of."
"Evidently Crowley did."
Patricia O'Gara said definitely, "My point's been proven. Our average
man is a slob. Give him the opportunity to exercise unlimited freedom
without danger of consequence and he becomes an undisciplined and
dangerous lout."
* * *
Ross Wooley had come in, scowling, just in time to catch most of that.
He tossed his hat onto a table and fished in his pockets for pipe and
tobacco. "Nuts, Pat," he said. "In fact, just the opposite's been proven.
Don's just on a fun binge. Like a kid in a candy shop. He hasn't done
anything serious. Went into a fancy restaurant and ate some expensive
food. Sneaked into the hotel room of the world's most famous

sex-symbol and got a close-up look." He grinned suddenly. "I wish I
had thought of that."
"Ha!" Patricia snorted. "Our engagement is off, you Peeping Tom."
"Children, children," Braun chuckled. "I'll admit, though, I think Ross
is correct. Don's done little we three didn't when first given the robe of
invisibility. We experimented, largely playfully, even childishly."
Patricia bit out, "This experiment is ridiculous, anyway, and I don't
know why I ever agreed to it. Scientific? Nonsense. Where are our
controls? For it to make any sense we'd have to work with scores of
subjects. Suppose we do agree that the manner in which Don Crowley
has reacted is quite harmless. Does that mean we can release this
discovery to the world? Certainly not."
Ross said sullenly, "But you agreed that we'd go by the results of
this...."
"I agreed to no such thing, Rossie Wooley, you overgrown lug. All I
agreed to do was consider the results. I was, and am, of the opinion that
if the person our politicians so lovingly call the Common Man was
released of the restrictions inhibiting him, he'd go hog wild and destroy
both society and himself. What is to prevent murder, robbery, rape and
a score of other crimes, given invisibility for anyone who has a couple
of dollars with which to go into a drugstore and purchase our serum?"
Her fiancé sighed deeply, jamming tobacco fiercely into the bowl of his
briar. He growled, "Look, you seem to think that the only