ation； tore off his pullover and； having dragged the moaning beastie momentarily to ground level； stuffed the patchworked woolly over its head。 A blessed silence descended upon the lockup； and Norman breathed a twin sigh of relief。 Perhaps； he mused； with its obviously unstable molecular structure the camel might simply deteriorate to such a point that a slight draught would waft it away into nothingness。
This seemed a little cruel； as the camel was something of an unwilling victim of circumstance； and Norman was not by nature a cruel or callous man。 But considering the eventual good which his great quest would bring to the people of Brentford； the shopkeeper considered the sacrifice to be a small and necessary one。
It will thank me for it in the end； he told himself。 To die in so noble a cause。 I shall see to it that a memorial is built； the tomb of the unknown camel。 We might even organize some kind of yearly festival in its honour。 Camel Day； perhaps？ Hold it on Plough Monday； incorporate a few morris dancers in Egyptian garb and a maypole or two； make a day of it。 Yes； the camel had played its part and it would not go unrewarded。
Anyway； thought Norman； if it doesn't simply evaporate I can always speed the process up with a decent…sized weedkiller bomb。
9
Pooley and Omally sat at a secluded corner…table in the Flying Swan。
'I can't understand the Professor；' said Jim。 'Didn't seem to be himself at all。'
Omally shook his head； 'I don't know；' he replied。 'Appeared to me a clear case of keep…the…golfers…guessing。 I suspect that he knows a good deal more than he was letting on to。'
'Not much ever gets by him。 He certainly made short work of the cabbage leaf。'
Omally leant back in his seat and cast his arms wide。 'But where are we？' he asked。 'Nowhere at all！ We have council men doing the impossible at their every opportunity； we have runic ideograms appearing magically upon the ground and camels working their way through the season's produce。 I don't like any of it； it smacks to me of some great conspiracy to confound honest golfers and put them off their game。'
'I suspect that it goes a little deeper than that；' said Jim； 'but I agree that it does nothing to enhance the play。 Perhaps we should quit the allotment now。 Move on to pastures new。 There are several large bombsites down near the docks surrounded by high walls。 I know of a secret entrance or two。'
'Never；' said Omally boldly。 'I have had enough of running。 If we do not make our stand now； the bastards will eventually drive us into the sea and I care little for the prospect of underwater golf。'
'Cork balls；' said Pooley。
'I beg your pardon？'
Bitow Bitow Bitow Bitow Bitow Whap。。。 'What？' Nicholas Roger Raffles Rathbone turned a full circle upon his heel and drove his reddening fists down on to the console of the Captain Laser Alien Attack Machine。 'You bastard！' he said earnestly。 'You bloody sneaked an extra saucer in there。' He turned towards the bar where Neville stood； his ears protected by cotton…wool balls and his hands feverishly at work with the polishing cloth。 'Have you altered this machine？' he cried。
'Get stuffed；' said Neville。
'I know the sequences；' Nick continued unabashed； 'thirty shots； then a big saucer； thirty…eight； then a mother ship。 Somebody has tampered with this machine。'
Neville laid down his polishing cloth； plucked the ineffective cotton plugs from his ears and glowered across the bar。 'No…one has touched it；' he said； his words forming between two rows of teeth which were showing some signs of wear。 'No…one has touched； tampered or tinkered with it。 No official brewery representative has ever called to service it。 No engineers came to polish its paintwork； change its bulbs or fondle its inner workings； nor even to empty it of the king's ransom it must by now contain。 It seemingly never breaks down； nor needs any maintenance； it runs from its own power supply and is a law unto itself。 If you have any plaints I suggest that you address them directly to the machine。 With any luck it will take exception to your manner and electrocute you！'
'Someone's been tampering；' said Nick； delving into his pockets for more two…bob bits； 'I know the sequences。'
The part…time barman turned away in disgust。 'Jim；' he said； beckoning across the counter towards Pooley； 'might I have a word or two in your ear？'
Pooley hastened from his chair； favouring the possibility of a free drink。 'Your servant； bar lord；' said he。
'Jim；' said Neville； gesturing towards the hunched back of the green…haired youth； 'Jim； has Omally e up with anything yet regarding this abomination？ I am at my wits' end。 My letter of resignation is folded into the envelope and the stamp is on。'
Jim chewed upon his lip。 It was obvious that Neville was speaking with great sincerity。 It would be a tragedy indeed if Brentford lost the best part…time barman it ever had。 Especially over so trivial a thing as a gambling machine。
'In truth；' lied Jim with great conviction； 'Omally and I have spent the entirety of the afternoon discussing this very matter。 We were doing so even when you called me across。 We are； I think； nearing a solution。'
'Ah；' said Neville； brightening； 'it is good to know that there are still friends in the camp。 Have this one on the house。'
Pooley sank it at a single draught and strolled back to his seated panion。
'I saw that；' said Omally。 'What have you just talked me into？'
'Nothing much；' said Jim nonchalantly。 'It is just that Neville would prefer it if you would break the space machine now rather than later。'
Omally controlled himself quite remarkably。 'But I was of the impression that the thing is indestructable。 Do you not feel that this small point might put me at a slight disadvantage？'
Pooley nudged his panion jovially in the rib area。 'e now；' he said； 'this should provide a little light relief。 Take your mind off your worries。 What is it that you lads from the old country say？ Do it for the crack； that's it； isn't it。 The crack； eh？'
'The crack？' Omally shook his head in wonder。 As if things weren't bad enough。 He scratched at the stubble of his chin； which through the day had grown into what the Navy refer to as a full set； and cast a thoughtful eye towards the video machine。 'I have an idea；' he said； rising from his seat。 'Perhaps a success here might turn the tide of our fortunes。 Give me a florin。' Pooley began to pat his pockets。 'Give me the florin；' Omally reiterated。 Pooley paid up。
'Now； e Jim；' said the Irishman； 'and we will test the substance of this rogue apparatus。'
Neville the part…time barman watched the silver coin change hands and offered up a silent prayer to the dark and pagan deity of his personal preference。
Nicholas Roger Raffles Rathbone had a pile of not dissimilar coins of the realm stacked upon the chromium roof of the games machine。 He was set in for the night。
'Stand aside； laddy；' said Omally in an authoritative tone。 'My friend here wishes to match wits with these extra…terrestrial laddos。'
'No way；' said Nick； turning not a verdant hair； Tm halfway through a game here。'
Omally leant down towards the youth and spoke a few words into a pointed； tattooed ear。 The scourge of the cosmic mandos stepped aside。 'Be my guest；' he said politely。 'I will explain how it works。'
'That will not be necessary； thank you； off you go then； Jim。'
Pooley shook his head vigorously。 'Not me；' he said； 'these things give out dangerous X…rays。 I'm not having my hair fall out and my fingernails drop off。 No thank you。'
Omally patted his panion on the shoulder。 'Jim；' said he； 'who was it who set fire to my pop…up toaster？'
Pooley could not see the connection； but he nodded guiltily。 'It was me；' he said。
'And who overwound my alarm clock？'
'Also me。'
'And who fiddled with the tuner on the wireless set which had given me good and trouble…free listening for twenty years？'
Pooley looked away。 'Also me；' he said in a whisper。
'And who borrowed my electric razor and。。。 '
'I didn't know you weren't supposed to use soap when shaving electric；' Pooley plained。
'Who was it？'
'Also me。'
'Then you will understand my reasoning th