Shannon was about to tell him--as she had not told
him a half hour before--\"Stick it!\" when， like the Che-
shire cat， her editor vanished and she became aware
that， on the stairs， much too close to her， was this basket-
ball player or descendant of a Watusi chief.
A sharp pain--as the thin gold chain dug into her neck
by way of leave-taking. And it was gone! As was he，
sprinting down to the bottom of the stairs， where he
stopped for a moment， turned and smiled up at her. And
was gone again.
Rubbing her neck， she opened her mouth to yell， and
closed it. Can you imagine? I m too embarrassed to
scream. \" Gee， lady， you shouldn t be wearing no gold，
even a little-bitty thing like that， outside， you know. \" I
know. I know. I asked for it. It s my fault， right? No
wonder the bastard was smiling. Jesus， what a place to
live.
She felt for the chain， to make sure it was really gone.
And she saw the loping thieFs black head， chopped from
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