of the Black Mountain. I suppose you have heard of it?' Stritar smiled, not with amusement. 'Oh yes, I've heard of it.' 'I understand it is usually called simply the Spirit. No one would tell me the names of its leaders, but from certain hints I gathered that one of them was to be found near Mount Lovchen, which would seem logical. So we came north through the mountains and managed to get over the border into Yugoslavia, and across the valley and the river as far as Rijeka, but then we felt it was useless to go on to Cetinje without better information. In my boyhood I had once been to Podgorica to visit a friend named Grubo Balar.' Wolfe turned abruptly in his chair to look at the flat-nosed young man with a slanting forehead, seated over toward the wall. 'I noticed when I came in that you look like him, and thought you might be his son. May I ask, is your name Balar?' 'No, it isn't,' Flat-nose replied in a low smooth voice that was barely audible. 'My name is Peter Zov, if that concerns you.' 151 'Not at all, if it isn't Balar.' Wolfe went back to Stritar. 'So we decided to come to Podgorica -- which I shall probably learn to call Titograd if we stay in this country -- first to try to find my old friend, and second to see what it is like here. Someone had mentioned George Bilic of Rijeka, with his automobile and telephone, and we were footsore, so we sought him out and offered him two thousand dinars to drive us here. You will want to know why, when Bilic didn't want to oblige us, I told him to telephone the Ministry of the Interior in Belgrade. It was merely a maneuver -- not very subtle, I admit -- which I used once or twice in Albania, to test the atmosphere. If he had telephoned, it would have broadened the test considerably.' 'If he had telephoned,' Stritar said, 'you would now be in jail and someone would be on his way from Belgrade to deal with you.' 'All the better. That would tell me much.' 'Perhaps more than you want to know. You told Bilic to ask for Room Nineteen. Why?' 'To impress him.' 'Since you just arrived in Yugoslavia, how did you know about Room Nineteen?' 152 'It was mentioned to me several times in Albania.' 'In what way?' 'As the lair of the panther who heads the secret police, and therefore the center of power.' Wolfe flipped a hand. 'Let me finish. I told Jube Bilic to take us to the north corner of the square, but when he brought us here instead I thought it just as well. You would soon have learned of our presence, from someone else if not from him, and it would be better to see you and tell you about us.' 'It would be better still to tell me the truth.' 'I have told you the truth.' 'Bah. Why did you offer to pay Bilic in American dollars?' 'Because we have some.' 'How many?' 'Oh, more than a thousand.' 'Where did you get them?' 'In the United States. That is a wonderful country to make money, and my son and I have made our full share, but it does not know how to arrange for a proper concentration of power, and therefore there is too much loose-talk. That's why we came here to find out. Who can best concentrate the power of the Yugoslavs -- the Russians, or 153 Tito, or the Spirit of the Black Mountain?' Stritar cocked his head and narrowed his eyes. 'This is all very interesting, and extremely silly. It occurs to me that of the many millions lent to Yugoslavia by the World Bank -- that is to say, by the United States -- only one little million is being spent in Montenegro, for a dam and power plant just above Titograd, not three kilometers from here. If the World Bank wanted to know if the money is being spent for the agreed purpose, might it not send some such man as you to look?' 'It might,' Wolfe conceded. 'But not me. I am not technically qualified, and neither is my son.' 'You can't possibly expect me,' Stritar asserted, 'to believe your fantastic story. I admit that I have no idea what you do expect. You must know that, having no papers, you are subject to arrest and a thorough examination, which you would find uncomfortable. You may be Russian agents. You may, as I said, be agents of the World Bank. You may be foreign spies from God knows where. You may be American friends of the Spirit of the Black Mountain. You may even have been sent from Room Nineteen in Belgrade, to test the loyalty and vigilance of Montenegrins. But I ask myself, 154 if you are any of those, why in the name of God are you not provided with papers? It's ridiculous.' 'Exactly.' Wolfe nodded approvingly. 'It is a pleasure to meet with an intelligent man, Mr. Stritar. You can account for our having no papers only by assuming that my fantastic story is true, as indeed it is. As for arresting us, I don't pretend that we would be delighted to spend a year or two in jail, but it would certainly answer some of the questions we have been asking. As for what we expect, why not allow us a reasonable amount of time, say a month, to get the information we came for? I would know better than to make such a suggestion in Belgrade, but this is Montenegro, where the Turks clawed at the crags for centuries to no purpose, and it seems unlikely that my son and I will topple them. To show that I am being completely frank with you, I said that we have more than a thousand American dollars, but I carry very little of it and my son only a fraction. We have cached most of it, a considerable amount, in the mountains, and it is significant that the spot we chose is not in Albania but in Montenegro. That would seem to imply that we lean to Tito instead of the Russians -- did you say something, Mr. Zov?' 155 Peter Zov, who had made a noise that could have been only a grunt, shook his head. 'No, but I could.' 'Then say it,' Stritar told him. 'American dollars in the mountains must not go to the Spirit.' 'There is that risk,' Wolfe admitted, 'but I doubt if they'll be found, and what I have heard of that movement makes it even more doubtful that we will favor it. You're a man of action, are you, Mr. Zov?' 'I can do things, yes.' The low, smooth voice was silky. 'Peter has earned a reputation,' Stritar said. 'A good thing to have.' Wolfe came back to Stritar. 'But if he has in mind prying out of us where the dollars are, it doesn't seem advisable. We are American citizens, and serious violence to us would be indiscreet, and besides, the bulk of our fortune is in the United States, beyond your reach unless you enlist our sympathy and support.' 'What place in the United States?' 'That's unimportant.' 'Is Tone Stara your name there?' 'It may be, or maybe not. I can tell you, I understand the kind of power that is typified by Room Nineteen, and it attracts me, but I prefer not to call its attention to my 156 friends and associates in America. It might be inconvenient in case I decide to return and stay.' 'You may not be permitted to return.' 'True. We take that risk.' 'You're a pair of fools.' 'Then don't waste your time on us. All a fool can do in Montenegro is fall off a mountain and break his neck, as you should know. If I came back here to fulfill my destiny, and brought my son along, why make a fuss about it?' Stritar laughed. It seemed to me a plain, honest laugh, as if he were really amused, and I wondered what Wolfe had said, but I had to wait until later to find out. Peter Zov didn't join in. When Stritar was through being amused he looked at his wristwatch, gave me a glance -- the eighth or ninth he had shot at me -- and then frowned at Wolfe. 'You are aware,' he said, 'that everywhere you go in Titograd, and everything you say and do, will get to me. This is not London or Washington, or even Belgrade. I don't need to have you followed. If I want you in an hour, or five hours, or forty, I can get you -- alive or dead. You say you understand the kind of power that is typified by Room Nineteen. If you don't, you will. I am now permitting you to go, 157 but if I change my mind you'll know it.' He sounded severe, so it came as a surprise to see Wolfe leave his chair, tell me to come, and head for the door. I picked up the knapsacks and followed. In the outer room only one of the clerks was left, and he merely gave us a brief look as we passed through. Not being posted on our status, I was half expecting a squad to stop us downstairs and collar us, but the corridor was empty. On the sidewalk we got a few curious glances from passers-by as we stood a moment. I noted that Bilic's 1953 Ford was gone. 'This way,' Wolfe said, turning right. The next incident gave me a lot of satisfaction, and God knows I needed it. In New York, where I belong and know my way around and can read the signs, I no longer get any great kick out of it when a hunch comes through for me, but there in Titograd it gave me a lift to find that my nervous system was on the job in spite of all the handicaps. We had covered perhaps a quarter of a mile on the narrow sidewalks, dodging foreigners of various shapes and sizes, turning several corners, when I got the feeling that we had a tail and made a quick stop and wheel. After one sharp glance I turned and 158 caught up with Wolfe and told him, 'Jube is coming along behind. Not accidentally, because when I turned he dived into a doorway. The sooner you bring me up to date, the better.' 'Not standing here in the street, being jostled. I wish you were a linguist.' 'I don't. Do we shake Jube?' 'No. Let him play. I want to sit down.' He went on, and I tagged along. Every fifty paces or so I looked back, but got no further glimpses of our college-boy tail until we had reached a strip of park along the river bank. That time he sidestepped behind a tree that was too thin to hide him. He badly needed some kindergarten coaching. Wolfe led the way to a wooden bench at the edge of a graveled path, sat, and compressed his lips as he straightened his legs to let his feet rest on the heels. I sat beside him and did likewise. 'I would have supposed,' he said peevishly, 'that yours would be hardier.' 'Yeah. Did you climb a precipice barefooted?'
He closed his eyes and sat and breathed. After a little his eyes opened, and he spoke. 'The river is at its highest now. This is the Zeta, you see where it joins the Moracha. Over there is the old Turkish town. In my 159 boyhood only Albanians lived there, and according to Telesio only a few of them have left since Tito broke with Moscow.' 'Thanks. When you finish telling me about the Albanians, tell me about us. I thought people without papers in Communist countries were given the full treatment. How did you horse him? From the beginning, please, straight through.' He reported. It was a nice enough spot, with the trees sporting new green leaves, and fresh green grass that needed mowing, and patches of red and yellow and blue flowers, and with enough noise from the
