"Come with me, Ham," he said.
Ham followed him to the cellar, down a hall and into a room equipped as some sort of workshop, where a man wearing a loupe attached to his eyeglasses was working on something, bending close over a workbench.
The man looked up. "Hey, John," he said, "this our guy?"
"It is. Ham, meet Dave, the best document forger in the business. Dave also designs our private currency, which you've seen."
Ham shook the man's hand, and Dave didn't let go immediately. He peered closely at Ham's face. "Good tan," he said. "I'd have preferred to provide that, myself." Ham had no idea what the man was talking about.
"Come on, Dave, just get it done."
"Well, as I understand it, we don't have time for surgery, so I'll just have to wing it."
"I always enjoy watching this," John said.
"Let's see, graying hair, but darker eyebrows. I think I'll go for a darker mustache, but with some gray in it, and heavier eyebrows." He went to his workbench, opened a large briefcase and began rummaging in it. "Here we go," Dave said. "Stand here, under the light, Ham."
Ham moved as he was directed to.
Dave picked up an eyebrow with a pair of tweezers, painted something on the back and glued it over Ham's own right eyebrow, then he repeated the process with the left one. "Yeah, this is going to work," he said. He went back to the briefcase and came back with a mustache that matched the eyebrows. After a moment, Ham was a different man.
Ham looked at himself in a mirror. "Damn," he said. "Goodlooking guy."
"Let's try these, too," Dave said, picking up a pair of heavy, black-rimmed glasses. "You wear glasses, Ham?"
"Just for reading."
"What magnification?"
"Two."
"I can handle that," Dave said, going to a different briefcase and fishing out a pair of lenses. He removed the original lenses and snapped in the new ones. "Nice pair of bifocals," he said, putting the glasses on Ham. "Plain glass at the top, reading glasses at the bottom. How do they feel?"
"Loose," Ham said.
Dave made some adjustments, then returned the glasses to Ham.
Ham put them on and looked in the mirror. He would not have recognized himself, he thought.
"How's that, John?"
"Perfect, Dave."
"Okay, Ham, let's take a couple of pictures of you." He opened a folding screen and stood Ham in front of it. "We got a nice passport-model Polaroid camera here, makes four prints simultaneously." He took the picture, then handed Ham a shirt. "Put this on, and we'll take another."
Ham did as he was told, and his picture was taken again.
"This is all for your protection, Ham," John said. "We don't want anyone who gets a look at you to give an accurate description. We'll get you a hat, too." He began to look through a stack of hats on a table nearby.
"And a cigar is a good idea," Dave said. "Distorts the face."
"Hate'em," Ham said.
"We won't bother with that," John said, picking out a businesslike straw hat and placing it on Ham's head. "Look, his own mother wouldn't recognize him. You own a suit, Ham?"
"Yes, back at my place."
"I'll send somebody over there to pick it up for you. Let me have a key."