Get Smart 4 - Max Smart and the Perilous Pellets by William Johnston Read Free Book Online

ballet. And then—” He winked at Max. “—we will open the black bag and play marbles with the money!”
    “Max . . . ?” 99 said.
    “Do what you’re told, flung,” Max replied.
    99 scurried off. She was still carrying the black bag.
    “Shall we adjourn to the throne room, American Advisor?” Dr. Yeh! smiled, putting an arm around Max’s shoulder.
    “Why not?” Max replied. “It beats the firing squad.”

4.
    B Y THE time Max and Dr. Yeh! reached the throne room it had already been transformed into a banquet hall. A sumptuous, banquet-style meal awaited them—chicken à la king, stale rolls, peas, stuffed celery, canned peaches, and warm milk. And not long after they had seated themselves at the table, the ballet troupe appeared.
    “On with the ballet!” Dr. Yeh! cried.
    The ballet began. 99 was the center of attraction. The flingers flung her from one side of the banquet hall to the other, always catching her just before she hit the floor.
    “It’s magnificent,” Max said, not really paying much attention, but looking around for some place to plant a pellet.
    “It’s good, yes,” Dr. Yeh! frowned. “But there’s something not quite right about that new flung.”
    Max peered at 99, who was, at that moment, sailing through the air. “Maybe it’s because she’s carrying that black satchel,” he said.
    “I think that’s it,” Dr. Yeh! agreed. “Somehow, it detracts from the usual grace of the dance.”
    “It’ll do it every time,” Max said. “You get a ballet dancer carrying a suitcase and she’s all thumbs.”
    Dr. Yeh! suddenly tugged at Max’s sleeve. “Watch! This is the climax!” he said.
    Max concentrated on the gyrations of the dancers. He saw the flingers hurl the flung high into the air. Oddly, she appeared to be headed straight for the table.
    “I think we’re going to have a guest,” Max said. “You should have set another place.”
    “No. You see—”
    At that moment, the flung hit the table. And Max understood why it would have been pointless to set another place. As the flung skidded toward them along the table top she cleared everything from her path, dishes, food and all. Then, as if it had been planned that way, she came to a stop directly in front of Max and Dr. Yeh!
    “Magnifico!” Dr. Yeh! applauded.
    Max removed his plate of chicken à la king from his lap. “Frankly, I’ve seen neater landings,” he said.
    “Sorry about that, Max,” 99 apologized.
    “Flung, you performed stupendously!” Dr. Yeh! said to 99. “And, as is the custom, to celebrate your triumph, you and I will exchange gifts.”
    “Gee, I don’t really have much to give,” 99 said.
    “You need only a bauble,” Dr. Yeh! replied. “According to the custom, when the sheik (that’s me) is pleased, he gives his most valuable possession to the one who has pleased him. And, in return, that person presents the sheik (that’s me) with a trinket of no worth at all.” He indicated Max. “This is my gift to you,” he said. “I make you a present of my American Advisor.”
    “So much!” 99 gasped.
    “It’s not that much,” Dr. Yeh! replied. “Soon we will open the black bag, and, after that, he will be of no use to me, anyway. Advice, I can get anywhere.” He smiled expectantly. “And now, what do you have for me?”
    “Well . . .” 99 took a string of beads from around her neck . . . I do have these.”
    “Perfect!” Dr. Yeh! beamed. “What could be more worthless to a sheik (that’s me)?”
    99 placed the string of beads around Dr. Yeh!’s neck. “May I take my gift with me?” she asked.
    “You don’t want it wrapped?”
    99 shook her head. “I’ll carry it. I have a helicopter waiting right outside.”
    Dr. Yeh! giggled. “Not only is she a talented flung, she’s got a sense of humor,” he said.
    99 got Max by the hand. “Let’s go, Max!”
    He resisted. “Not now, 99! Duty first.”
    “Go with her,” Dr. Yeh! commanded. “But leave the black