a good impression, they arrived early for their appointment, thus finding him several cups of coffee short of his absolutely essential dozen. Then, they told him what they had done, giggling and snickering, very pleased with themselves. And his hand jerked at the news, and he slopped an overflowing cup of coffee on himself.
He caught their smirks and winks, as he tried to mop up with a napkin. But no one would have guessed that he did. He seemed wonderfully good-humored, as though losing a night's sleep and having his sacred waking-up schedule disrupted and spilling coffee all over three hundred bucks worth of clothes and having his strict orders disastrously emended by a couple of punks-as though all these had been delightful and heart-warming experiences.
He smiled genially at them, and complimented them on their astuteness.
'Smart,' he said. 'Yes, sir, that was plenty smart. Funny I didn't think of it myself.'
'Oh well'-Johnnie excused him patronizingly. 'A man can't think of everything.'
'Mmm-hmm,' Downing murmured. 'A man can't think of everything. That's pretty shrewd, Johnnie, I'll have to remember it.'
'Anyway,' Frankie cut in, 'you didn't know that she had all that loot. I guess you would have, if you'd stopped to think about it, but- '
But there you were, Downing said. A man couldn't think of everything. 'Guess I'll have to hire you boys to help me do my thinking,' he added. 'Excuse me a minute, will you?'
He left them briefly. Returning, he sat down in front of them on the edge of his desk. His hands were thrust in the pockets of his coat. Each hand gripped a roll of quarters.
'By the way,' he said. 'How did you boys happen to know Mitch's address?'
'Oh, she knew. Teddy knew where to take the dough,' Johnnie smirked. 'Keeping tabs on Mitch was kind of her business.'
'But she's in a new business from now on,' Frankie snickered.
Downing jerked his head at them confidentially, drawing them in close. 'Got something funny to tell you guys. You'll get a bang out of it…' He grinned widely, his hands tightening on the rolls of quarters. 'Mitch is away from Houston for a couple of days. Anyone that called on him would see the gal he lives with, a real hot- tempered babe who doesn't know that he-'
Frankie and Johnnie didn't wait to have it spelled out for them. They flung themselves backward, trying to make a break for it. Downing's loaded fists lashed out.
He got them both in their pretty pans, with a lightning swift one-two. Then, as they spun, he swung with a double-armed backhand, again connecting with such force that they crashed against opposite walls of the room.
They were still out to the world some ten minutes later when Ace came in. He gave them a raised- brow look, shook his head deprecatingly at Downing.
'You shouldn't let guys sleep in here, boss. It don't look good.'
'There's something in the atmosphere, I guess,' Downing said. 'They dozed off right while I was talking to 'em.'
'Well, that was kind of rude,' Ace said, frowning at the recumbent youths. 'How's your hearing these days, boss?'
'Not so good. The last guys you bounced around in the alley, I couldn't hardly hear it at all.'
Ace expressed alarm. After all, he pointed out, the alley was only a hundred yards away. 'You suppose we ought to run another test?'
Downing thought that they should. Ace awakened Frankie and Johnnie.
He was very good at waking people. Even those who seemingly would never waken again. The boys were on their feet in a matter of seconds, howling and dodging and making many of the same kinds of noises that Teddy had made.
Ace took them out in the high-walled alley.
'Now that,' said Downing, a hundred yards away, 'is a test!'
23
Darkness…
Mitch kept his head ducked, lips clenched against the pressing whiskey. He kept his eyes closed peevishly, mumbling with simulated incoherence. Fully conscious but wanting time to size things up.
He was soaked, dripping with the oily slime from the well. Several people were around him, cowhands seemingly; mumbling and fumbling as they tried to revive him. He was sitting slumped on a leather lounge. The room he was in was apparently a large one, for Gidge Lord's voice drifted to him from a considerable distance away.
'… Oh, no! Certainly not. There's nothing at all wrong. He just stepped outside for a… Just a moment, please. I believe he's coming in right now…'
She laid the phone down on the desk, as Mitch at last opened his eyes. Frantically, motioning for the cowhands to get out, she hastened across to him.
'I'm sorry as hell, Corley! I swear to God I didn't know that hole was-'
Mitch weaved to his feet-weaved deliberately. There was something that had to be figured out here: the reason for Mrs. Lord's alarm, her downright panic. The clue that might lead to that one-in-a-million chance.
'Please, Corley…' She was hanging onto his arm, her magnificent torso moving against his, as she guided him toward the desk. 'Don't crumb me with him, please! Don't knock me, for God's sake! Tell him everything's okay, and I swear I'll…'
She smiled at him with her leathery face. The milky eyes pleading, beaming good will.
Mitch picked up the phone, and spoke into it. A harsh, strangely musical voice came over the wire. And immediately he had the clue to the riddle.
The banks were loaded with Gidge Lord's paper. They would lend no more, so she had been beating the state of Texas for big private money. And one of the most obvious prospects for a huge private loan, a man who would instantly know the worth of the Lord holdings and see the opportunity in their mismanagement, was-
'Mr. Zearsdale,' Mitch said. 'It's good to hear from you so soon.'
'It's nice of you to say so,' Zearsdale purred. 'Your sister told me I might catch you there.'
Mitch said that the call had come just in time. He might have been gone in another minute. Zearsdale said he was glad to hear it.
'As long as you're through there, you can come to a little party I'm giving tonight. Your sister wants to come, if it's agreeable with you.'
'Well, thanks very much,' Mitch said. 'What-eight o'clock? Hang on for a moment, will you?'
He started to turn to Mrs. Lord. Zearsdale's suddenly sharp voice stopped him. 'Is there some trouble there, Mr. Corley? Be frank with me, please. The ranch doesn't have a reputation for
