“My problem?” said Harold.

Dr. Mildume pushed right in. He was no more than five feet five but had a normal sized head. It was domelike. Wisps of tarnished white hair curled about his ears and crown. He had an out-thrust underjaw with a small white beard on its prow. He was dressed in moderately shabby tweeds. He moved across the room in an energetic hopping walk and took the place on the sofa Harold had vacated.

“Now, then, Mr. Untz,” he said, “the first thing we must do is come to terms.”

“Just a minute,” said Harold. “I’m Mr. Untz’s assistant, Harold Potter. Mr. Untz is in the shower. Was he expecting you?”

Dr. Mildume blinked. “No, not exactly. But he can’t afford not to see me. I know all about it.”

“All about what?” asked Harold.

“The beasts,̶. . . Read More