The letter came down the slot too early that morning to be the regularmail run. Pete Greenwood eyed the New Philly photocancel with a dreadfulpremonition. The letter said: PETER: Can you come East chop-chop, urgent? Grdznth problem getting to be a PRoblem, need expert icebox salesman to get gators out of hair fast. Yes? Math boys hot on this, citizens not so hot. Please come. TOMMYPete tossed the letter down the gulper with a sigh. He had lost a bet tohimself because it had come three days later than he expected, but ithad come all the same, just as it always did when Tommy Heinz gothimself into a hole.Not that he didn't like Tommy. Tommy was a good PR-man, as PR-men go. Hejust didn't know his own depth. PRoblem in a beady Grdznth eye! WhatTommy needed right now was a Bazooka Battalion, not a PR-man. Petesettled back in the Eastbound Rocketjet with a sigh of resignation.He was just dozing off when the fat lady up the aisle let out a scream.A huge reptilian head had materialized out of nowhere and was hanging inair, peering about uncertainly. A scaly green body followed, four feetaway, complete with long razor talons, heavy hind legs, and a whiplashtail with a needle at the end. For a moment the creature floated upsidedown, legs thrashing. Then the head and body joined, executed ahorizontal pirouette, and settled gently to the floor like an eight-footcircus balloon.Two rows down a small boy let out a muffled howl and tried to buryhimself in his mother's coat collar. An indignant wail arose from thefat lady. Someone behind Pete groaned aloud and quickly retired behind anewspaper.The creature coughed apologetically. "Terribly sorry," he said in acoarse rumble. "So difficult to control, you know. Terribly sorry...."His voice trailed off as he lumbered down the aisle toward the emptyseat next to Pete.The fat lady gasped, and an angry murmur ran up and down the cabin. "Sitdown," Pete said to the creature. "Relax. Cheerful reception these days,eh?""You don't mind?" said the creature.