Ed Crosswire was fastening his tie. He seldom wore one, even when managing his car lots, but the occasion was special—Meriwether Gelt was about to arrive.

Fern was in Muffy's room, her bare feet resting on a table, learning from her friend the finer points of polishing her toenails. "Muffy? Fern?" said Mr. Crosswire when he spied the girls. "I have very important business to conduct with Mr. Gelt, so I'd appreciate if you would keep quiet while he's here."

Muffy looked at Fern and giggled. "He's afraid we'll scare the money away," she said jokingly.

"You can count on us, Mr. C," said Fern. "We'll be so quiet, you'll be able to hear us think."

"Nobody's quieter than you," Muffy teased her.

The old gentleman rapped on the door mere seconds later. Mr. Crosswire allowed him in, and Fern took her first peek at the wealthy stranger. "You're right," she whispered to Muffy. "He does look like the Monopoly guy."

Try as he might, Binky could find nothing on TV that interested him. "When I was a kid," his father related, "there was nothing but cartoons on Saturday morning. That's not true anymore, now that there are whole channels with nothing but cartoons—but I remember when I would sleep in the living room, so I could wake up early and start watching cartoons right away. Spooky Poo, the Smorfs, Philo the Phriendly Phantom…oh, now I've got the theme song stuck in my head. 'Philo the Phriendly Phantom, phloating down the street…'"

"Geez, Dad," said Binky. "Did everybody watch dorky cartoons back then?"

"Er, yes," his father replied. "You see, there were only three networks."

Mrs. Barnes poked her head into the living room. "Someone's here to see you, Binky Winkums," she announced.

The boy recoiled in fear. Sue Ellen stood in the doorway, a contrite expression on her face.

While Crosswire and Gelt exchanged pleasantries, Fern and Muffy pretended to be engrossed in their nail-painting activities. Then Fern's sensitive ears detected the sound of a door closing, and the grownup voices became inaudible.

"That's odd," she remarked, placing her newly decorated feet on the carpet. She tiptoed in the direction of the room Muffy's father termed "the office", glancing this way and that as she went.

"What is it, Fern?" asked Muffy, tailing her.

"Shh," whispered the poodle girl. Hanging on the door in front of her was a plastic sign with the words, DO NOT DISTURB. Lifting up one of her ears, she pressed the side of her head against the varnished wood and strained to listen.

"What are they saying?" Muffy inquired in a hushed tone.

"I can't tell," said Fern, her voice almost too low to be heard. "They must be whispering."

"Why would they whisper?" Muffy wondered. "It's just us here, and we don't understand any of that financial mumbo-jumbo."

"Maybe it's not mumbo-jumbo," said Fern seriously. "Maybe they're trying to hide something from us…from you."

With that, she grabbed the doorknob, cranked it, and charged forward, nearly knocking the door from its hinges. What she saw in the paper-filled room verified her suspicions. Pointing an accusing finger at Mr. Crosswire and Mr. Gelt, she exclaimed, "Ah-hah!"

Muffy gasped in disbelieving horror.

"You'd better not be here to punch me again," said Binky warily.

Sue Ellen minced slowly toward the couch. "No," she told the boy. "I…I came to apologize. What I did was mean and wrong, and I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' doesn't bring back the four pints of blood I lost," said Binky.

The cat girl rested her fingers on Binky's arm, where she felt a number of nascent hairs. "You really don't remember the world we came from," she marveled, "the world where the Yordilians were successful in their conquest of Earth."

Binky shrugged. "I know nothing of any other world."

Sue Ellen's eyes became moist. "Maybe…maybe I dreamed the whole thing," she mused. And now I'm stuck in your reality, where Earth is still free, she thought. I'll just have to deal.

"Gosh, Sue Ellen, are you okay?" said Binky at the sight of the girl's doleful visage.

She sniffled a bit. "Call me Sue," she said. "I'm dropping the Ellen part. It's too babyish."

"Okay, Sue," said Binky.

She leaned forward, bracing herself on the armrest of the couch, and pressed her lips against the boy's rough cheek. "I've been thinking," she said tenderly, her breath massaging Binky's ear, "about what you asked me yesterday…"

"Mr. Crosswire," said Fern, her eyes and heart full of indignation, "you are one sick puppy."

Muffy's father slowly and sheepishly lowered the optical-fiber dress that dangled from his hands. "Uh, hi, Muffin," he croaked. "Er, ah, you're not gonna believe this, but one of Mr. Gelt's employees found your dress and turned it in."

Overpowered by joy, Muffy leaped into the air and snatched the precious item from her father's grasp. "My dress! My dress!" she gushed, holding it dearly to her bosom.

"What's the meaning of this?" said Mr. Gelt in his gruff voice. "We had an agreement!"

"Uh, yes, that's right," said Mr. Crosswire, his face growing pallid. "We had an agreement to surprise Muffy with it, right after I signed the loan."

The lust in Mr. Gelt's eyes sent a chill down Fern's spine. "Give me that dress!" he snarled, fastening both hands to the article of clothing. So forcefully did he rip it from Muffy's arms that the girl spun around before landing face-down on the floor.

"Muffin!" cried Mr. Crosswire. "You scoundrel!" There was a loud, sudden crack as his fist connected with Gelt's stubbly chin and sent the old man and his cane sprawling.

While Fern helped Muffy to stand, Crosswire placed his shoe atop Gelt's cleanly pressed shirt, pinning him helplessly. Bending over, he rudely pried the alien dress from the oldster's fingers, waved it straight, and inspected it for damage. "This belongs to my daughter, you wretch," he said angrily. "I have no more business with you. Get out."

He tossed the white, shining dress into Muffy's waiting hands as Gelt rose to his feet, using his cane for support, and glowered at him. "Heed my warning, Crosswire," he said, backing out of the office. "I'll have that dress, or I'll have my revenge—on you, and your entire family!"

As he hurriedly departed from the condo, Muffy threw one arm around her father's leg while draping her dress over the other arm. "I love you, Daddy!" she enthused. "You saved my dress from that horrible old man! I love you forever!"

Fern could only feel moved as she witnessed the scene. Her father's a hero in her eyes, she thought. How can I spoil this for her? How can I tell her that I saw her dad's car driving past the school just before she was robbed of her dress?

Alan, his attention gripped by a book about meerkats, was alerted by the cry of a boy's voice from the guest bedroom. I'm the only boy in the house, he pondered. Who could it be?

Curious, he laid down his tome and walked hastily to the guest room, to find that someone had closed the door. Once it was open, he beheld a sight that stunned him.

Van Cooper was lying, belly-down, on the cold, paneled floor. Van Cooper, the boy with the beak and the legs that didn't work.

The duck boy looked up at Alan with a hint of embarrassment, possibly due to the fact that he was wearing a dress. "Uh, hi," he said bashfully. "Could you, uh, do me a favor, and find my wheelchair?"

Alan stammered in disbelief. "Omigosh…you've…you've changed back! How?"

"How indeed," said Van, holding up his torso with his arms. "I'll tell you as soon as I'm mobile again."

Alan's eyes scanned the room. They scanned the nearby rooms—the living room, the kitchen, the hallway.

"Professor!" he called out. There was no reply.

He turned to face the boy in the dress. "Van," he said with concern, "have you seen the Professor?"

The only response was a quizzical look.

"Van," Alan asked again, "where is the Professor?"

To be continued in Arthur Goes Fifth IX