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n the rampage。 He would have to disconnect all the Dimac circuits and pep up the old goodwill…to…mankind modules。 Possibly it was simply the case that the robot had been a little over…enthusiastic。 After all； it had had his interests at heart。 Norman shuddered。 Omally had got away with the tobacco； and Hairy Dave had charged him fifty quid to shore up the front of the shop and screw a temporary door into the splintered frame。 The robot had not been in service more than a couple of hours and it was already bankrupting him。 Fifty quid for a half…ounce of Golden。 And what if Omally decided to sue or； more likely； to exact revenge。 It didn't bear thinking of。 He would have to go round to the Swan later and apologize； stand Omally a few pints of consolation。 More expense。 The harassed shopkeeper climbed from his chair and sought out a quart of home…made sprout wine from the bottle…rack beneath the sink。
At length the Memorial Library clock chimed five…thirty p。m。 in the distance； and upon the Swan's doorstep stood two bedraggled figures who； like Norman； had the drowning of their sorrows very much to the forefronts of their respective minds。 Neville the part…time barman drew the polished bolts and swung open the famous door。
'By Magog！' said the pagan barkeep。 'Whatever has happened to you two？ Should I call an ambulance？'
Pooley shook his head。 'Merely draw the ales。'
With many a backwards glance； Neville lumbered heavily away to the pumps。 'But what has happened to you both？ Your eye； John？ And Jim； your sleeves？' Neville pushed two brimming pints across the counter towards the straining hands of his two patrons。
'We were mugged；' said Omally； who was finding it hard to e to terms with the concept of defeat at the hands of a humble shopkeeper。
'Ten of them；' Pooley added。 He had once read of a mugger's victim being carried into a pub and revived with free ale。
Neville had also read of it and took up a glass to polish。 'We live in troubled times；' he said profoundly。 'Ten and six please。'
Omally drew his boot away from his bruised ankle and pulled out several pound notes。 Neville； who had never before seen the Irishman handling paper money in public； was anxious to see if they were the real McCoy。 The wrinkled relic John handed him smelt a bit pony； but it did have a watermark。 Neville rang up 'No Sale' and obligingly short…changed his customer。 Omally slung the pennies into his trouser pocket without even checking them。
'Mugged then is it？' Neville almost felt guilty。 'Did you best the villains？'
'Did we？' Pooley raised his scorched palm and made chopping movements。 'The blackguards will think twice about molesting the folk of Brentford again I can tell you。'
'I see Norman is having his shopfront done up；' said Old Pete； who had sneaked in hard upon the heels of the two warriors。
Omally spluttered into his beer。 'Is that a fact？' said he。
'Had his shopfront mugged so I hear。'
'Give that gentleman a large dark rum；' said Omally。
The ancient accepted his prize and slunk away to a side…table with much malicious chuckling。 Omally grudgingly paid up and joined Pooley； who had taken to hiding in a suitably darkened corner。
'I shan't be able to live with this；' said John； seating himself。 'That old one knows already； it will be all over the parish by morning。'
'But Norman？' said Pooley。 'I still can't quite believe it。 Norman wouldn't hurt a spider； and by God his shop gives lodging to enough。'
'A lover of the insect kingdom he may be； but let humankind beware。 The shopkeeper has finally lost his marbles。 He took it out on me as though violence was going out of fashion。'
Jim sighed。 'This is a day I should certainly choose to forget。 We have both paid dearly for our greed。'
John nodded thoughtfully。 'I suppose there are lessons to be learned from it。 We have certainly learned ours the hard way。'
'Talking of lessons； I think your homework has just arrived。' Jim pointed over Omally's shoulder to where Norman now stood squinting about the bar。
John sank low in his high…backed chair。 'Has he seen me？' he whispered。
Pooley nodded。 'I'm afraid so； he's ing over。'
'When you hit him go for his beak； ignore the groin。'
'I'm not going to hit him； this is nothing to do with me。'
'Nothing to do with you？ You started it； you and your money…making wheel。。。'
'Evening gents；' said Norman。
'Evening to you； old friend；' said Pooley； smiling sweetly。
Omally f ummaged in his pockets and brought out a crumpled packet of cigarette papers and a somewhat banjoed half…ounce of tobacco。 'I never smoked it；' he said。 'You can have it back if you still want it。'
Norman held up his hand； which made Omally flinch painfully。 'No； no； I have e to apologize。 I really don't know what came over me； to lose my temper like that。 I have been working too hard lately； I have a lot of worries。 There is no permanent damage done； I trust？'
'I am still in a state of shock。' Omally sensed possibilities。 'Numb all over。 I suspect a fracture here and there； though。 I'll be off work a good while I shouldn't wonder。'
Norman nodded good…naturedly。 Omally would be wanting his pound of flesh； better get it over with in one go。 'Might I buy you a drink？' he asked。
'You might；' said Omally； 'and we will see where it leads。 If you could manage one for my panion also it would not go unappreciated。'
Norman smiled。 He wondered whether or not to ask Pooley where the sleeves of his jacket were； but he presupposed the answer to be of a somewhat poignant nature； evoking images of such hardship and tragedy as to morally oblige the asker to purchase many further pints。 'I'll get the round in then；' said Norman； departing to the bar。
'One pint and one half…ounce up；' said John bleakly。 'What profit the day； I ask you？'
'Perk up； John； it can only get better； surely。' Pooley now sighted Old Pete hobbling purposefully towards them。 'Or possibly not。'
'Where's my bed then？' the ancient asked； prodding Omally's bruised shoulderblade with his stick。 'I've brought the money。'
'Money？' John did not recall mentioning a figure。 'How much did you bring？'
'Twenty quid。'
'Twenty quid。' Omally buried his face in his hands。
'It's enough； isn't it？ You said it was an antique。 I think twenty quid's a fair price if it's a good one。 So where's my bed？'
'What bed？' asked Norman； who was bringing up the drinks。
'Omally said he had an antique bedstead to sell me； I want to see it。'
'The muggers took it；' said Jim Pooley helpfully。 Omally； who was just ing to terms with a ten pound down payment for an antique bedstead at present being refurbished by mythical upholsterers； looked up at him in horror。 'Sorry；' said Jim； shrugging innocently。
'What muggers？' asked Norman。
'The ten who blacked his eye； or did you say there were twelve； John？'
'Ah；' said Norman stroking his chin。 'e to think of it； I did see a gang of bully boys pushing an antique bed along down by the half…acre。 Thought it odd at the time。 A right evil…looking bunch they were； wouldn't have dared tackle them myself。 No fighter me。'
'Bah；' snarled Old Pete。 'You're all bloody mad。' Turning upon his heel； he muttered a few well…chosen obscenities； and shuffled away。
'Thanks；' said Omally when the ancient was beyond earshot。 'I suppose that calls us square。'
'Good。' Norman passed the two newly…retired bed…salesmen their pints。 'Then； if you will pardon me； I think I will go and have a word with Old Pete。 I have an old brass bed in my lock…up he might be interested in。 The money will go somewhere towards meeting the cost of a new shop…door。 So all's well that ends well； eh？ Every cloud has a silver lining and a trouble shared is a friend indeed。' With the briefest of goodbyes； Norman left the two stunned drinkers staring after him。
After a short yet very painful silence Omally spoke。 'You and your bloody big mouth；' said he。
Pooley turned up his ruined palms helplessly。 'Still；' he said； 'your reputation is saved at least。'
'You buffoon。 There is no reputation worth more than five pounds and the man who is five pounds to credit needs no reputation whatever。'
'Ah well； let's look on the bright side。 I think I can