But they’d given him an assignment. Something about a plumber’s fancy dress ball. Now, obviously an assignment like that concerned their plans, their organization. Obviously.

He grabbed for the phone.

“Desk? This is Mr. Smith in 504. Yes, Mr. Smith again. Listen, how do I find out where the plumbers are in New York?”

“If the plumbing in your room is out of order, sir,” the smooth, patient voice explained, “the hotel will send up a—”

“No, no, no! I don’t want a plumber, I want plumbers, all of them! The New York plumbers, how do I find them?”

He distinctly heard lips being licked at the other end as this question was digested and then, aside, a whispered comment, “Yeah, it’s 504, again. We got a real beauty in that room this time. I don’t envy the night man tonight, let me tell you!” Loudly and clearly, if just a shade less smoothly, the voice replied: “You will find a classified telephone directory on the desk near your bed, sir. You can look up plumbers under P. Most of the plumbers in Manhattan are listed there. For plumbers in Brooklyn, the Bronx, Queens, and Staten Island, I would suggest—”

“I don’t want plumbers in Brooklyn or the Bronx! I don’t even want plumbers in—” Alfred Smith drew a deep breath. He had to get a grip on himself! The fate of the entire planet, of the entire human race, depended on his keeping his head. He forced his mind backward, inch by inch, off the plateau of hysteria it had mounted. He waited until his voice was calm.

“This is the problem,” he began again, slowly and carefully. “There is a fancy dress ball of the plumbers of the New York area. It’s being held somewhere in the city tonight, and I’m supposed to be there. Unfortunately, I’ve lost my invitation and it contained the address. Now, how do you think I could go about finding where the ball is going to be?” He congratulated himself on the swiftness of his thinking. This was really being a counterspy!