IMPOSTOR-!

"I'm Gerald Lasswell of the United States Secret Service. Get into the car, please."

Skip and Dr. Canter obeyed, sliding into the teardrop-shaped Neptune. Perhaps arrangements were being made to take them to the Sigman.
Pilot set, the car hummed into motion. "Better we opaque the windows," Lasswell said, and did. "Hey," Skip exclaimed suddenly. "What's a juju doing in a Secret Service whirr?" "I can tell you that," Lasswell replied.


He unsnapped his harness and turned around. From beneath his tunic he had drawn a flat gun. Skip snarled and grabbed under his own garments while snatching at his buckle. The gun hissed and the needle flew. Skip jerked, made a rattling noise,.._ rolled back his eyes, and slumped, and the drug plunged him into oblivion.