The cancellation of that order and the amended order postponing Lummox's death indefinitely never reached him. A new clerk in the communications office of DepSpace made a slight error, simply a transposition of two symbols; the cancellation went to Pluto... and the amended order, being keyed to the cancellation, followed it.
So Dreiser sat in his office with the death order clutched in his hand and thought about ways to kill the beast Electrocution? Maybe... but he could not even guess at how much of a jolt it would take to do it. Cut his throat like butchering a hog? The Chief had serious doubts about what sort of knife to use and what the brute would be doing in the meantime.
Firearms and explosives were no good. Wait a minute! Get the monster to open its mouth, wide, then shoot straight down its throat, using an explosive charge that would blow his innards to bits. Kill him instantly-yes, sir! Lots of animals had armor-turtles, rhinos, armadillos, and things-but always outside, not inside. This brute was no exception; Chief Dreiser had had several looks down inside that big mouth the time he had tried poison. The beast might be armor plate outside; inside he was pink and moist and soft like everybody else.
Now let's see; he'd have the Stuart boy tell the brute to hold its mouth open and... no, that wouldn't do. The boy would see what was up and like as not would order the beast to charge... and then some cops' widows would draw pensions. That boy was going bad, no doubt of it... funny how a good boy could take a wrong turn and wind up in prison.
No, the thing to do was to get the kid downtown on some excuse and carry out the order while he wasn't around. They could entice the brute into saying "ah!" by offering him food... "tossing it to him," Dreiser amended.
He glanced at his clock. Today? No, he wanted to choose the weapon and then rehearse everybody so that it would go like clockwork. Tomorrow early... better have the boy picked up right after breakfast.
Lummox seemed contented to be home, ready to let bygones be bygones. He never said a word about Chief Dreiser and, if he realized that anyone had tried to harm him, he did not mention it. His naturally sunny disposition displayed itself by wanting to put his head in Johnnie's lap for cuddling. It had been a long time since his head was small enough for this; he merely placed the end of his muzzle on the boy's thigh, carrying the weight himself, while Johnnie stroked his nose with a brickbat.
Johnnie was happy only on one side. With the return of Lummox he felt much better, but he knew that nothing had been settled; presently Chief Dreiser would again try to kill Lummox. What to do about it was an endless ache in his middle.
His mother had added to his unhappiness by raising a loud squawk when she saw "that beast!" returned to the Stuart home. John Thomas had ignored her demands, threats, and orders and had gone ahead stabling his friend and feeding and watering him; after a while she had stormed back into the house, saying that she was going to phone Chief Dreiser. Johnnie bad expected that and was fairly sure that nothing would come of it ... and nothing did; his mother remained in the house. But Johnnie brooded about it; he had a life-long habit of getting along with his mother, deferring to her, obeying her. Bucking her was even more distressing to him than it was to her. Every time his father had left (including the time his ship had not come back) he had told Johnnie, "Take care of your mother, son. Don't cause her any trouble."
Well, he had tried ... he really had! But it was sure that Dad had never expected Mum to try to get rid of Lummox. Mum ought to know better; she had married Dad. knowing that Lummox was part of the package. Well, hadn't she?
Betty would never switch sides like that. Or would she?
'Women were very strange creatures. Maybe he and Lum ought to bach it together and not take chances. He continued to brood until evening, spending his time with the star beast and petting him. Lummie's tumors were another worry. One of them seemed very tender and about to burst; John Thomas wondered if it ought to be lanced? But no one knew any more about it than he did and he did not know.
On top of everything else, here Lummie was ill... it was just too much!
He did not go in to dinner. Presently his mother came out with a tray. "I thought you might like to picnic out here with Lummox," she said blandly.
Johnnie looked at her sharply. "Why, thanks, Mum uh, thanks."
"How is Lummie?"
"Uh, he's all right, I guess."
"That's good."
He stared after her as she went in. Mum angry was bad enough, but Mum with that secret, catlike look, all sweetness and light, he was even more wary of. Nevertheless he polished off the excellent dinner, not having eaten since breakfast. She came out again a half hour later and said, "Finished, dear?"
"Uh, yes... thanks, it was good."
"Thank you, dear. Will you bring the tray in? And come in yourself; there is a Mr. Perkins coming to see you at eight."
"Mr. Perkins? Who's he?" But the door was closing behind her.
He found his mother downstairs, resting and knitting socks. She smiled and said, "Well? How are we now?"
"All right. Say, Mum, who is this Perkins? Why does he want to see me?'
"He phoned this afternoon for an appointment. I told him to come at eight."
"But didn't he say what he wanted?"
"Well... perhaps he did, but mother thinks it is better for Mr. Perkins to explain his errand himself."
"Is it about Lummox?"
"Don't cross-examine Mum. You'll know quickly enough."
"But, look here, I..."
"We'll say no more about it, do you mind? Take off your shoe, dear. I want to measure for the foot."
Baffled, he started to remove his shoe. Suddenly he stopped. "Mum, I wish you wouldn't knit socks for me.
"What, dear? But mother enjoys doing it for you."
"Yes, but.. . Look, I don't like hand-knit socks. They make creases on the soles of my feet ... I've showed you often enough!"
"Don't be silly! How could soft wool do your feet any harm? And think what you would have to pay for real wool, real handwork, if you bought it. Most boys would be grateful."
"But I don't like it, I tell you!"
She sighed. "Sometimes, dear, I don't know what to do with you, I really don't." She rolled up her knitting and put it aside. "Go wash your hands... yes, and your face, too... and comb your hair. Mr. Perkins will be here any moment."
"Say, about this Mr. Perkins..."
"Hurry, dear. Don't make things difficult for mother." Mr. Perkins turned out to be pleasant; John Thomas liked him despite his supiscions. After a few polite inanities, with coffee served for ritual hospitality, he came to the point.
He repesented the Exotic Life Laboratory of the Museum of Natural History. As a result of the news picture of Lummox in connection with the story of the trial the beast had come to the attention of the Museum... which now wanted to buy him.
'To my surprise," he added, "in searching the files I discovered that on another occasion the Museum attempted to buy this specimen... from your grandfather, I believe. The name was the same as yours and the date fitted. Are you any relation to..."
"My great great great grandfather... sure," John Thomas interrupted. "And it was probably my grandfather they tried to buy Lummox from. But he was not for sale then-and he's not for sale now!"
His mother looked up from knitting and said, "Be reasonable, dear. You are in no position to take that attitude."
John Thomas looked stubborn. Mr. Perkins went on with a warm smile, "I sympathize with your feelings, Mr. Stuart. But our legal department looked into the matter before I came out here and I am familiar with your present problems. Believe me, I'm not here to make them worse; we have a solution that will protect your pet and clear up your troubles."