terrible punishment, but he stayed five years more. He could have spent his whole life there, solely because he had no friends or money.'
'And you got him out, solely out of the goodness of your heart.'
'Put it this way,' said Doc, slowly. 'I've-I've made a lot of mistakes. Maybe this will help wipe some of them out.'
Myrtle Briscoe stared at him, elbows on her desk, hands under her chin.
'Dammit, Doc, I'd like to believe that!'
'It's the truth.'
'Maybe. Maybe not. I've lived so much of my life surrounded by crooks that-' She broke off. 'Pat- Red, Sandstone isn't a very nice place, is it?'
'Suppose I said yes,' I said. 'Or no?'
'Never mind. But there's more than one kind of prison, Red. They don't all have walls around them.'
'I know,' I said. 'I worked in the library, Miss Briscoe.'
'Well, I hope you learned something. You've had a bad time. I hope you're not in for something worse. Not that it makes much difference. I'm like everyone else; I have to play ball. Doc knew I would, didn't you, Doc?'
'I hoped for your cooperation, certainly, Miss Briscoe.'
'I'll play-this time. But don't get in a rut, Doc. There's an election coming up, and I'm pretty sick of trying to clean house with a whiskbroom.'
Myrtle Briscoe came around the desk and gripped me by both arms and looked up into my face.
'I was kidding about the clothes,' she said. 'You look good-and you're going to have to be good. Hard as it may be, and even if we both think it's nonsense. You know what I mean. No drunks, no wild women, no rough stuff. That's what the books say. That's what I say as long as they say it.'
'Yes, ma'am,' I said.
'Maybe,' she said. 'Maybe-oh, get the hell out of here!'
7
There was a restaurant in the basement of the capitol, and Doc and I ate lunch there. Neither of us was very hungry, and we had only a salad, rolls and a bottle of ale each.
Several people stopped by our table. There was a Senator Flanders with a man who, as nearly as I could make out, was a textbook salesman. There was a commissioner of something-or-other whose name I didn't catch. Another senator named Kronup. Several people; I saw them all later, from time to time, around Doc's house.
Burkman came in, just as we were finishing the ale, and took a chair at our table. There were pouches under his eyes, and his voice was even more hoarse than it had been the night before.
Doc told him about Myrtle Briscoe.
'Myrtle dropped a hint about not running next time. A threat, rather.'
'Nonsense! I happen to know she's already lining up her campaign material. Anyway, she doesn't need to run. She'd get a big enough write-in vote to be elected.'
Burkman cursed. 'It'd be about like the old bitch to pull something like that! We're going to have to baby her along a little bit, Doc. Get her some better offices. Let her have another investigator.'
'It might not be a bad idea.'
'You'd better tour around with me this afternoon, Doc. I want you to tell the governor-' Burkman paused, looking from me to Doc. 'I meant to tell you, Pat; I got that job for you. Drop around to the Highway Commission tomorrow morning and ask for Mr. Fleming.'
'Thank you, very much,' I said. 'About what time, Senator?'
'Oh, suit yourself. Some time in the forenoon.'
'What does it pay?' Doc asked.
'Two and a half. Best I could do right now.'
Doc shrugged. 'It could be worse. What about it, Pat? Do you think you can accept a job at two hundred and fifty a month?'
'I'm very grateful,' I said. 'I only hope I'll be able to do the work.'
Burkman's eyes widened. Then, he leaned back and roared with laughter. Doc chuckled. 'The job won't be too difficult,' he said pointedly, reaching for our check. 'I'm going to be tied up for the next couple of hours. Is there anything you'd like to do?'
'Why, nothing in particular,' I said. 'I wouldn't mind strolling around the building.'
'That's a good idea; give the people a chance to see what the well-dressed man is wearing. Come back here and have something more to eat or drink if you like.'
'I think I'll just walk around,' I said. 'Where shall I meet you?'
'Oh,' he glanced at his watch, 'make it the front entrance.'
I said I'd be there, shook hands with the senator, and left.
It took me almost an hour to find the state historical museum. Most of the cases and cabinets were empty. Tacked on the front of them were small, age-yellowed signs:
EXHIBIT ON TEMPORARY LOAN
I went from the museum to the state library- 'Closed For Repairs.' Then, since my time was running short, I located the highway commission offices and went out to the entrance to wait for Doc.
I was leaning against the stone balustrade and starting to light a cigarette when she came out.
I dislike trying to describe her, because the physical facts of a person so seldom add up to what that person really is.
She was no youngster-every line of her full but compact body spoke the mature woman-and she made no attempt to appear one, superficial facts to the contrary. She was just herself, a forever young and gay self, and I could not picture her as acting or dressing in any other way than she did.
She wore a plain blue dress with a white collar and a little white belt, tied in the back. She wore low-heeled shoes, and I think her firm round legs were bare. She had a black straw hat with a saucer-like brim which was slung over her arm by its elastic band. Her crisp brown hair was pulled back in a single thick curl, barely reaching to her shoulders and tied with a tiny white ribbon.
She stood at the top of the steps for a minute, breathing deeply, happily; her brown eyes and her small straight nose, her entire face crinkling with good humor. She smiled at me, without actually seeing me, of course: impersonally, simply because it was a nice day and she was alive and that was good.
Then, she went jauntily down the steps, the hat swinging over her arm, the little belt spanking her gently on her bottom.
I wanted to run after her, ask her name, hold her somehow; never let her go away. And I remembered who I was-Doc-Myrtle Briscoe-Sandstone-and I could only stand and watch. Feeling sick and empty. Lost.
Near the end of the walk she stepped over into the driveway, and started down the row of parked cars.
She stopped at Doc's big black sedan, glanced casually over her shoulder and opened the door.
I stood where I was for a moment, unable or unwilling to believe what I had seen. Then, I went down the steps, three at a time. I cut across the driveway and ran, stooping, along the far row of cars. I came parallel with Doc's sedan, vaulted silently over a bumper and dropped down behind her.
She was kneeling on the seat of the car, her back- well, not her
