Tinker's Dam

The call on the TV-phone came right in the middle of my shaving. They have orders not to call me before breakfast for anything less than a national calamity. I pressed "Accept;" too startled to take the lather from my face.



"Hi; Gyp;" George Kelly said to me from the screen. "Hurry it up; boy." He made no reference to my appearance on his screen. "Quit draggin' your feet!"



This I take from George Kelly. First of all; he's Director of the F.B.I. Even more important; he's my boss. "Hey; George;" I protested; knowing he would not have called on a routine matter. "I got up before breakfast as it is. What's up?" I hardly needed to ask. When they call me; it's always the same sickening kind of trouble.