Most Friday nights at the Naval Station in Bermuda, we would assemble at the officers club after work. One Friday, Rick, a newly married ensign, insisted he had to leave at 6 p.m. We all tried to talk him into staying, but he'd promised his bride he'd be home by six. I offered to call home for Rick.

When his wife answered the phone, I said, "Rick has been kidnapped. Put five dollars in small, unmarked bills in a plain brown paper bag and throw it in the door of the officers club." Then I hung up.

A short time later, a waiter brought a grocery bag to our table. In it were Rick's baseball glove, a tennis racket and a teddy bear. Attached to the bear was a note: "Rick can play kidnapped until 7 p.m. Then he must come home."