“I’m sure,” Leonidas said, “this car will do as well as the Cadillac. The heater is admirable. You needn’t be sore that you were thwarted about the Sixteen—”
“Aw, it ain’t that, Bill. That ain’t what I’m sore about. Say, you know who it was trailing us, huh?”
Leonidas nodded.
“Your friend Rossi, was it not?”
“Say!” Cuff turned a comer on half a wheel. “Say, how’d you know, huh?”
“I guessed,” Leonidas said. “Was there anyone with him?”
“Yeah. That guy. His cousin. The garage one. Say, Bill, I been getting a free ride, ain’t I?”
“If you mean,” Leonidas said gently, “that Rossi has been deliberately misleading you, yes. I’m quite sure he has been.”
“Telling me all the time how much he liked the colonel!” Cuff said. “On account of he knew I’d most likely tell Mrs. Price. And he picks me to check on that battery serial because he knew I—aw, gee! And I been reading all the books Jock give me, and all! Honest, I never caught on!”
Leonidas stepped on Margie’s foot.
“After all, Cuff,” he was afraid that Cuff was going to burst into tears, “Rossi knew you weren’t used to clerical work. After all, clerical work is not your forte. Er—don’t you think that’s so, Cassie?”
“I think that’s as nice a phrase,” Cassie said, “as you ever coined. Ssh, Margie! Bill’s right. Rossi knew Cuff wasn’t used to clerical work, so he picked him to wade through a lot of faked papers. You hadn’t done any other checking, had you? Well, Rossi knew you hadn’t. He knew he could fool you easier than he could fool some of the others who were used to clerical work.”
“You think,” Cuff said, “he picked me because I don’t know about papers, and .not on account of I don’t read very good?”
“I’m sure of it,” Leonidas said promptly. “And tell me, Cuff, what made you catch on to them so quickly now?”
Cuff brightened.
“Well, they was trailing us, all right. They was the ones. And then the car they got. Phony plates, see? Fixed plates. I can spot ’em a mile away. And it’s a quick repaint job—”
“You mean they’re in a stolen car?” Cassie said.
“Yeah. And then their clothes— I never seen Rossi out of uniform before, see? And the time I seen the cousin, he was in overalls and all grease, see? Gee, I’m dumb! But I bet you the colonel’s caught on. Every morning for a week when I reported at the station, see, the colonel’s called me in and showed me pictures, and asked if any of the guys looked like them guys got away, see? And this morning, it did. They had hats on, and the brims snapped down—and it was the same around the mouth. Just like them two now!”
“I was right!” Cassie said. “I was right! Rutherford is on the trail of something about Rossi, and that’s why Feeny acted that way. Feeny goes through the mail, doesn’t he, Cuff? And the pictures that get sent from the other police departments. Oh, my, how nicely it’s beginning to fit!”
“And the—er—dick at the station/’ Leonidas said. “Things are fitting. Cuff, where are we?”
“Oh, I’m just weaving around West Dalton,” Cuff said. “They din’t spot us. Shall I go to the garage now?”
“Frankly,” Leonidas said, “I don’t feel there’s much use. But some day you must find out what happened to Pig Eyes.”
“What do you mean?” Cassie stared at him. “What happened to him?”
Leonidas smiled.
“I feel, Cassie, that Pig Eyes has gone on a long, long journey of one description or another. It ought to be easy to find out. Cuff, wouldn’t someone at Dinty’s know?”
“In town a day,” Cuff said wonderingly, “and already you know about Dinty’s!”
“M’yes. Remind me to give you a card,” Leonidas said, “entitling you to a free evening of bowling. Stop at this drugstore ahead, and phone Dinty’s, and ask the bartender— You know him, don’t you?”
“Say,” Cuff said, “Dinty’s my own cousin! Say, whyn’t I think to call him right off? That would of been a cinch!”
“M’yes,” Leonidas said, “we did rather choose the hard way, didn’t we? But we found out a great deal more. Hurry, Cuff.”
Cuff vaulted a snow bank and disappeared into the drugstore.
“The dope!” Margie said. “The poor, sweet dope! He feels terrible, Mrs. Price. Well, I guess I learned my lesson. I guess I don’t leave him alone again, ever.”
“He’s tried so hard,” Cassie said. “Mostly I think he hates to feel that he’s let Rutherford down. He adores Rutherford. Bill, the Voters League.”
“M’yes.”
“They’ll put that Scipione up for mayor, and Ward Four’ll elect him on the strength of the clambakes and the free milk and the Beano. Rossi’ll take over the police. Rutherford’ll be out on his ear, which doesn’t largely matter, but the Police Department will be crooked, and that does matter. All those women, Bill. Think of ‘em. Hattie and Estelle and all the rest of Tudbury’s Horse, all rushing around getting money for the Voters League, and Clean Government for Dalton. Digging their graves with their teeth—no, that’s not the one I mean. Hoist with their own petard. Anyway, you know what I’m driving at.”
“M’yes,” Leonidas said again.
“Sometimes I wonder,” Cassie said, “if a woman’s place isn’t in the home! Sometimes I think women should stay right in their own kitchens; mashing potatoes and scouring pans!”
Leonidas did not answer. Neither he nor Margie pointed out that Cassie rarely mashed potaoes or scoured pans, herself.
“Anyway,” Cassie went on, “they ought to stay home more. Think of Jock. If his mother isn’t skiing on pine needles, she’s skiing on snow, and in between times, she goes to lectures about the dictatorship of the proletariat. You should see Jock’s socks.”
“Jock doesn’t seem to suffer,” Leonidas remarked.
“No, but he has perspective,” Cassie said. “He looks on the proletariat and the skiing with the same detachment his grandfather looked on my suffragettes and the Camping Club. Jock’s very like his grandfather. But
