said to be the best detective agency in all New York."
Mallory decided not to mention that it was the only one in New York, gestured for them to sit down, and simply waited for them to explain the nature of their problem.
"Have you ever gone to the circus, Mr. Mallory?" asked the one on the left.
"Not since I was a kid."
"Then you probably don't remember us," said the one on the right.
"Probably not," agreed Mallory. "Are you jugglers?"
"Certainly not!" they said in unison.
"Trapeze artists?"
"No!"
"I could sit here guessing all night, or you could tell me and we could get on with the case," suggested Mallory.
"Have you ever heard of Macro, the ten-foot-tall giant?" asked the one on the left.
"You?" asked Mallory.
The man shook his head. "No," he said, gesturing toward his companion. "He is."
"And have you ever read about Micro, the smallest human in the world, the Nineteen-Inch Dynamo?" Macro jerked a thumb toward the one on the left. "Him."
"This is a joke and you guys are here for the heating bill, right?" asked Mallory.
"I assure you this is no joke, Mr. Mallory," said Micro.
"We are in desperate need of your help," added Macro.
"I don't think I provide the kind of help you need," said Mallory.
"Only you can provide it!" said Micro desperately. "We have lost what makes us unique!"
"You've lost your grip on reality," observed Mallory. "That makes you pretty unique."
"We didn't come here to be insulted!" snapped Macro.
"Fine," said Mallory. "You pick up the tab, and I'll be happy to insult you down the street at the Emerald Isle Pub."
"Why won't you listen to us?"
"Because you're the same size as me, give or take an inch here and a pound there, and even when I've had a snootful I've never thought I was a ten-foot giant or a nineteen-inch midget."
"But that is precisely why we have sought you out!" insisted Macro. "Will you at least hear us out?"
"It's been a long, hard day," said Mallory.
"Would two thousand dollars suffice as a retainer?" asked Micro, pulling out the money and laying it on the detective's desk.
"On the other hand, the night's a pup," said Mallory. Suddenly Felina hissed. "Or a kitten, anyway."
"It began about two weeks ago," said Macro. "At first I thought I was losing a little weight, because my clothes were just a bit loose. I didn't mention it to anyone, because, to be honest, I could do with a little less weight."
"And at the same time," chimed in Micro, "I noticed that my shoes were getting tight, and that my pants seemed a little shorter."
"It took us almost a week to understand the full magnitude of what was happening," said Macro. "Some fiend has been making me shrink down to normal size . . ."
". . . and me grow up to it," said Micro.
"You have to help us, Mallory!" Macro implored the detective. "All we've ever been is a giant and a midget. We have no other skills. What do I know about tightrope walking or lion taming?"
"There are other occupations," noted Mallory.
"We don't want any other occupations!" shouted Micro. "We want you to find the bastard who did this to us and make him restore us to our former glory."
"We'll pay you a thousand dollars a day and a bonus if you succeed," said Macro.
"Of course," added Micro, "you'll have to succeed in four days or less. We're just about tapped out, what with buying new clothes every day."
"I'll do what I can," said Mallory. "Now, who do you think might have a grudge against you?"
"We're the salt of the earth," replied Macro. "You could look far and wide and not find two more lovable souls. Everybody knows that."
"So no one you know has any reason to do this to the pair of you?"
"Well, there's Atlas, the Strong Man," said Micro. "He found out that we were having a little fun with his wife."
"Both of you?" asked Mallory.
"We're a team."
"So I should start by questioning the strong man?"
"And the lion tamer," added Macro. "And the tightrope walker. Oh, and two of the bareback riders."
"Don't forget the clowns," said Micro.
"How could they know?" asked Macro. "After all, we were wearing clown make-up the whole time."
"There aren't a lot of ten-foot clowns in the circus," said Micro. He turned back to Mallory. "And probably you should ask two of the jugglers. Don't bother with the one in the middle; he's a bachelor."
"I think what you're telling me is that if it works for the circus and