Read Online Get Smart 1 - Get Smart! by William Johnston - Free Book Online

said. “Don’t worry! I’ll get Fred out of there!”
    Max ran to the car. He disappeared into the cloud of smoke.
    “Hurry!” Blossom wept.
    From the denseness of the smoke came Max’s voice. “I’ve got him! I’m coming out!”
    Max reappeared. He staggered from the smoke, carrying an armload of mechanism. Wires hung from it. A lever dangled loose.
    “Oh, Fred, Fred!” Blossom sobbed. “What happened to you?”
    “Looks like he tangled with the wrong end of my lower left front headlight,” Max commented.
    Fang came crawling back. “Rorff!” he barked.
    Max peered more closely at the mangled mechanism he was holding. “By George, you’re right,” he said to Fang.
    “What did he say?” Blossom wept.
    “He pointed out that this isn’t Fred,” Max said. “It’s my radar gear. I grabbed the first thing that felt like Fred, and, apparently, I made a slight error.”
    “But where’s Fred?”
    They turned toward the car. The smoke had lifted. The car was empty.
    “Offhand, I would say that Fred has done it again,” Max said. “He’s skipped.”
    Blossom began to sob again. “Oh, Fred, Fred, poor Fred, all alone in the cold, cruel world!”
    “I don’t think that’s exactly right—about being alone,” Max said. “My guess is that he’s got a whole carload of FLAG agents on his tail.”
    “We’ve got to do something!”
    “I’ll go along with that,” Max said. “We’ve got to find him again. Which, once more, brings up the question: Where could a computer go to hide?”
    “Rorff!”
    “That’s a definite possibility,” Max nodded.
    “What did he say?”
    “He said that since Fred is looking for freedom of the spirit and this is manifested in a near-psychotic compulsion to go without shaving, he has probably headed for Greenwich Village. And, I’m inclined to go along with that. Despite his obviously superior mentality, Fred has struck me as somewhat of a kook. I think he’d be right at home in the Village. Also, there’s the factor that he could mingle with the natives without drawing any undue notice to himself.”
    “A robot?”
    “You miss the point,” Max said. “The point is, nobody in the Village ever shaves. Not even the females.”
    Blossom headed for the car. “Let’s go!”
    “You took the words right out of my mouth,” Max said, following.
    Fang bounded after him.

5.
    S OME THIRTY minutes later, after a zigzagging drive at breakneck speeds through midtown Manhattan, they arrived in the Village.
    “Keep your eyes peeled for some sign of Fred,” Max said as they cruised along Eighth Street.
    “Gee, there are a lot of them who don’t shave,” Blossom said, observing the natives.
    “Let’s limit it to those who don’t shave but who don’t have a beard either,” Max said.
    “Rorff!”
    “I know that fellow doesn’t have a beard,” Max replied. “But that’s because he’s a policeman.”
    “Rorff!”
    “Yes . . . that’s an idea.”
    Max pulled up to a policeman, who was standing in the middle of the intersection, directing traffic. “Excuse me, officer,” he said. “We’re looking for a computer—who masquerades as a robot—and who has revolving eyes and a lever at his side. I wonder if perhaps you’ve seen him?”
    The policeman leaned down and put his head in the car window. “Where’s the camera?” he said, glancing about the car interior.
    “Officer, you don’t understand. This isn’t Candid Camera. We’re on the trail of a robot. The fate of the entire civilized world hangs in the balance. Now, have you seen anyone answering to that description?”
    The officer waved gayly. “Hi, Mom!”
    “Officer, believe me, this isn’t Candid Camera!”
    “What night’ll it be on?” the policeman asked.
    Max sighed. “Never mind,” he said. “We’ll just keep looking.”
    As they pulled away, the officer called after them. “What night? You didn’t tell me what night!”
    “Exhibitionist!” Max grumbled.
    “Max, we’ll