getting out ofhere with that gun, Swanson. And we're going to the police! Not thecops in Tylerton, but the F.B.I., maybe. Take a look at this!"
The sheaf he handed Swanson was headed: "Test Area Progress Report.Subject: Marlin Cigarettes Campaign." It was mostly tabulated figuresthat made little sense to Burckhardt and Swanson, but at the end was asummary that said:
Although Test 47-K3 pulled nearly double the number of new users of any of the other tests conducted, it probably cannot be used in the field because of local sound-truck control ordinances.
The tests in the 47-K12 group were second best and our recommendation is that retests be conducted in this appeal, testing each of the three best campaigns with and without the addition of sampling techniques.
An alternative suggestion might be to proceed directly with the top appeal in the K12 series, if the client is unwilling to go to the expense of additional tests.
All of these forecast expectations have an 80% probability of being within one-half of one per cent of results forecast, and more than 99% probability of coming within 5%.
Swanson looked up from the paper into Burckhardt's eyes. "I don't getit," he complained.
Burckhardt said, "I don't blame you. It's crazy, but it fits thefacts, Swanson, _it fits the facts_. They aren't Russians and theyaren't Martians. These people are advertising men! Somehow--heavenknows how they did it--they've taken Tylerton over. They've got us,all of us, you and me and twenty or thirty thousand other people,right under their thumbs.
"Maybe they hypnotize us and maybe it's something else; but howeverthey do it, what happens is that they let us live a day at a time.They pour advertising into us the whole damned day long. And at theend of the day, they see what happened--and then they wash the day outof our minds and start again the next day with different advertising."
* * * * *
Swanson's jaw was hanging. He managed to close it and swallow. "Nuts!"he said flatly.
Burckhardt shook his head. "Sure, it sounds crazy--but this wholething is crazy. How else would you explain it? You can't deny thatmost of Tylerton lives the same day over and over again. You've _seen_it! And that's the crazy part and we have to admit that that'strue--unless we are the crazy ones. And once you admit that somebody,somehow, knows how to accomplish that, the rest of it makes all kindsof sense.
"Think of it, Swanson! They test every last detail before they spend anickel on advertising! Do you have any idea what that means? Lordknows how much money is involved, but I know for a fact that somecompanies spend twenty or thirty million dollars a year onadvertising. Multiply it, say, by a hundred companies. Say that everyone of them learns how to cut its advertising cost by only ten percent. And that's peanuts, believe me!
"If they know in advance what's going to work, they can cut theircosts in half--maybe to less than half, I don't know. But that'ssaving two or three hundred million dollars a year--and if they payonly ten or twenty per cent of that for the use of Tylerton, it'sstill dirt cheap for them and a fortune for whoever took overTylerton."
Swanson licked his lips. "You mean," he offered hesitantly, "thatwe're a--well, a kind of captive audience?"
Burckhardt frowned. "Not exactly." He thought for a minute. "You knowhow a doctor tests something like penicillin? He sets up a series oflittle colonies of germs on gelatine disks and he tries the stuff onone after another, changing it a little each time. Well, that'sus--we're the germs, Swanson. Only it's even more efficient than that.They don't have to test more than one colony, because they can use itover and over again."
It was too hard for Swanson to take in. He only said: "What do we doabout it?"
"We go to the police. They can't use human beings for guinea pigs!"
"How do we get to the police?"
Burckhardt hesitated. "I think--" he began slowly. "Sure. This placeis the office of somebody important. We've got a gun. We'll stay righthere until he comes along. And he'll get us out of here."
Simple and direct. Swanson subsided and found a place to sit, againstthe wall, out of sight of the door. Burckhardt took up a positionbehind the door itself--
And waited.
* * * * *
The wait was not as long as it might have been. Half an hour, perhaps.Then Burckhardt heard approaching voices and had time for a swiftwhisper to Swanson before he flattened himself against the wall.
It was a man's voice, and a girl's. The man was saying, "--reason whyyou couldn't report on the phone? You're ruining your whole day'stest! What the devil's the matter with you, Janet?"
"I'm sorry, Mr. Dorchin," she said in a sweet, clear tone. "I thoughtit was important."
The man grumbled, "Important! One lousy unit out of twenty-onethousand."
"But it's the Burckhardt one, Mr. Dorchin. Again. And the way he gotout of sight, he must have had some help."
"All right, all right. It doesn't matter, Janet; the Choco-Biteprogram is ahead of schedule anyhow. As long as you're this far, comeon in the office and make out your worksheet. And don't worry aboutthe Burckhardt business. He's probably just wandering around. We'llpick him up tonight and--"
They were inside the door. Burckhardt kicked it shut and pointed thegun.
"That's what you think," he said triumphantly.
It was worth the terrified hours, the bewildered sense of insanity,the confusion and fear. It was the most satisfying sensationBurckhardt had ever had in his life. The expression on the man's facewas one he had read about but never actually seen: Dorchin's mouthfell open and his eyes went wide, and though he managed to make asound that might have been a question, it was not in words.
The girl was almost as surprised. And Burckhardt, looking at her, knewwhy her voice had been so familiar. The girl was the one who hadintroduced herself to him as April Horn.
Dorchin recovered himself quickly. "Is this the one?" he askedsharply.
The girl said, "Yes."
Dorchin nodded. "I take it back. You were right. Uh, you--Burckhardt.What do you want?"
* * * * *
Swanson piped up, "Watch him! He might have another gun."
"Search him then," Burckhardt said. "I'll tell you what we want,Dorchin. We want you to come along with us to the FBI and explain tothem how you can get away with kidnapping twenty thousand people."
"Kidnapping?" Dorchin snorted. "That's ridiculous, man! Put that gunaway--you can't get away with this!"
Burckhardt hefted the gun grimly. "I think I can."
Dorchin looked furious and sick--but, oddly, not afraid. "Damn it--"he started to bellow, then closed his mouth and swallowed. "Listen,"he said persuasively, "you're making a big mistake. I haven'tkidnapped anybody, believe me!"
"I don't believe you," said Burckhardt bluntly. "Why should I?"
"But it's true! Take my word for it!"
Burckhardt shook his head. "The FBI can take your word if they like.We'll find out. Now how do we get out of here?"
Dorchin opened his mouth to argue.
Burckhardt blazed: "Don't get in my way! I'm willing to kill you if Ihave to. Don't you understand that? I've gone through two days of helland every second of it I blame on you. Kill you? It would be apleasure and I don't have a thing in the world to lose! Get us out ofhere!"
Dorchin's face went suddenly opaque. He seemed about to move; but theblonde girl he had called Janet slipped between him and the gun.
"Please!" she begged Burckhardt. "You don't understand. You mustn'tshoot!"
"_Get out of my way!_"
"But, Mr. Burckhardt--"
She never finished. Dorchin, his face unreadable, headed for the door.Burckhardt had been pushed one degree too far. He swung the gun,bellowing. The girl called out sharply. He pulled the trigger. Closingon him with pity and pleading in her eyes, she came again between thegun and the man.
Burckhardt aimed low instinctively, to cripple, not to kill. But
hisaim was not good.
The pistol bullet caught her in the pit of the stomach.
* * * * *
Dorchin was out and away, the door slamming behind him, his footstepsracing into the distance.
Burckhardt hurled the gun across the room and jumped to the girl.
Swanson was moaning. "That finishes us, Burckhardt. Oh, why did you doit? We could have got away. We could have gone to the police. We werepractically out of here! We--"
Burckhardt wasn't