“…Stalny froze in the silence of the eternal stars. Hisaching knee tore at his consciousness as he waited for the monsters to hear the thud and-”

Marmie yanked desperately at Dr. Torgesson's sleeve. Torgesson looked up and disconnected little Rollo.

“That's it,” said Marmie. “You see, Professor, it's just about here that Hoskins is getting his sticky little fingers into the works. I continue the scene outside the spaceship till Stalny wins out and the ship is back in Earth hands. Then I go into explanations. Hoskins wants me to break that outside scene, get back inside, halt the action for two thousand words, then get back out again. Ever hear such crud?”

“Suppose we let the monk decide,” said Hoskins.

Dr. Torgesson turned little Rollo on, and a black shriveled finger reached hesitantly out to the typewriter. Hoskins and Marmie leaned forward simultaneously, their heads coming softly together just over little Rollo's brooding body. The typewriter punched out the letter t.

“T,” encouraged Marmie, nodding. “T,” agreed Hoskins.

The typewriter made an a, then went on at a more rapid rate: “take action stalnee waited in helpless hor ror forair locks toyawn and suited laroos to emerge relentlessly-”

“Word for word,” said Marmie in raptures. “He certainly has your gooey style.”

“The readers like it.”

“They wouldn't if their average mental age wasn't-” Hoskins stopped.

“Go on,” said Marmie, “say it. Say it. Say their IQ is that of a twelve-year-old child and I'll quote you in every fan magazine in the country.”

“Gentlemen,” said Torgesson, “gentlemen. You'll disturb little Rollo.”

They turned to the typewriter, which was still tapping steadily: “-the stars whelled in ther mightie orb its as stalnees earthbound senses insis ted the rotating ship sto od still.”