In The House Of Secret Enemies

Statler shook his head. 'By now that cat's half-starved, and I think he's hurt. Pretty soon he'll be man-huntin', if he isn't already. I didn't bring you out here to get yourself killed, Mongo. You ain't goin' after a killer cat with a popgun. You take heavy artillery, or you're fired before you start. Sam ain't as sentimental as I am.'

I shrugged. 'Phil, I'll go after Sam with a tranquilizer gun whether I'm working for you or not. You knew that, or you wouldn't have asked me to come down here.'

'All right,' he said after a long pause. 'But you'll take along something with stopping power too. With soft- nosed cartridges.'

'Done,' I said easily. I turned and looked back the way we had come. 'One thing puzzles me. Seattle's fifty miles south, with at least a dozen towns between here and there. And there didn't seem to be that much cover. How do you suppose Sam made it all the way up here without being spotted?'

'He had help,' Statler growled. 'Some lousy bastards who don't know a thing-'

'Whoa, Phil. Take it from the top.'

He flushed and spat again in the snow. 'Somebody must have thought they were doing Sam a favor. We'd been getting letters for about a week attacking us for keeping animals in cages. I didn't pay much attention to them until this happened. But Sam didn't escape; he was let loose.'

'You said he might be hurt.'

'We were keeping the livestock in the back of the armory in the middle of town. John was the only man on night duty, and they must have got the jump on him. They slugged him over the head, then broke the lock on Sam's cage. The city police figure they backed a truck up and forced him in. They found tire tracks further up the road here, along with Sam's tracks in the snow. Stupid! That's a big forest, but it ain't India. The hell of it is that Sam didn't want to go. They found blood on the bottom of the cage, which means whoever took him probably had to prod him to get Sam into the truck. A hurt tiger ain't nothin' to mess with, Mongo.' Suddenly Statler turned and slammed his fist against the fender of the Jeep. 'Now I feel real stupid for askin' you to come here. It's. . it's just that I can't stand the thought of Sam gettin' it from somebody like Hayes, and I didn't know who else but you to ask.'

I took a deep breath of the cold, pine-scented air. 'Phil,' I said, 'you know how much I appreciate that compliment, but I'm going to be damned angry with you if I should get myself killed.'

I spent the rest of the day shopping with Phil Statler for provisions. The next morning I left him to pick up a few special items, and drove the Jeep into Seattle. It took most of the day and a lot of talking, but I left with a tranquilizer gun and a carton of darts.

The only items missing were a good horse and a modified saddle, and Statler was to meet me with these early the next morning. I was ready. I ate an early supper and headed up to my room. I'd have gone right to bed except for the fact that Reggie Hayes' feet were propped up on it.

Hayes' picture hadn't done him justice; in the flesh he was uglier. The skinny deputy leaning against the windowsill wore a uniform at least one size too large for him, and he had a bad tic in his right cheek. Taken together, they resembled something that you might expect to pop up in your room after a week of steady drinking.

'Why don't you make yourself comfortable?' I said, putting the room key I hadn't had to use into my pocket. Both men stared. 'What's the matter? You two never see a dwarf before?' I didn't wait for an answer. 'Both of you are in my room uninvited,' I said, looking directly at Hayes. 'The least you can do is take your feet off my bed.'

My manner must have taken him off guard; he took his feet off the bed. Immediately he flushed. 'Look, now. .'

'Hey!' the deputy sheriff said, trying and failing to snap his fingers. 'I saw this guy hanging around the jail late yesterday afternoon.'

Hayes' eyes narrowed. 'You interested in jails, Frederickson?'

'You know my name?' The question was redundant, but I felt a strong urge to change the subject.

'Pete down at the desk told me,' Hayes said, deliberately putting his feet back up on the bed. I said nothing. 'This is a small town, Frederickson. We're all real friendly around here. That's how I know you and your friend been shopping for some real special items; a high-powered rifle, soft-nosed cartridges, and lots of raw meat. Today your friend ordered a special saddle with the stirrups shortened, so it looks as though that stuff may be for you. If you didn't look like you had so much sense, I'd think you were going tiger hunting.'

'I hear the woods here are full of them.'

The deputy started to say something, but Hayes cut him off with a wave of his hand. 'Tell me,' Hayes said, rising up out of the chair and hooking his fingers into his belt, 'where does a dwarf get off thinking he can hunt a tiger?'

'I suffer delusions of grandeur.'

Hayes' pock-marked face reddened. He was obviously a man who enjoyed making his own jokes.

'How come you ordered twenty pounds of dog biscuits, smart guy?'

'Sam has peculiar tastes.'

'Sam. .?'

'The tiger you want to kill so badly.'

The deputy could restrain himself no longer. He strode across the room and grabbed Hayes' sleeve. 'That's what I wanted to tell you, Reggie; I just remembered who this guy is. I was reading an article about him in one of those news magazines just the other day.'

For a moment I was sure the man was going to ask me for my autograph.

'Mongo,' the man continued. 'Mongo the Magnificent. That's what they used to call him when he was with the circus.'

'What the hell are you talking about?'

'The circus,' the deputy said. 'This guy used to be with the same circus that tiger came from. The article told how he quit eight, nine years ago to become a college professor. It said he teaches something called criminology. It said he's also a private detective.'

The deputy sucked in his breath like a minister who had inadvertently mumbled a four-letter word in the middle of a sermon. Hayes eyed me coldly and touched his gun.

'We got elected officials in this county, Frederickson. We don't need no private law.'

Hayes was starting to take me seriously, and I didn't like that at all.

'Those were exactly my thoughts,' I said.

'What are you doing here, Frederickson?'

'Hunting.'

'That's what you think,' Hayes said. A thin smile wrinkled his lips, but did not touch his eyes. 'You need a license to hunt in this county, and you ain't got no license.'

'Mr. Statler mentioned something about that,' I said evenly. 'I think that's all been taken care of. Statler Brothers Circus has done a lot of benefits in this state, and I think you'll find a letter from the Governor on your desk in the morning.'

'I want that cat, Frederickson,' Hayes said tightly, making no effort to hide the menace in his voice. 'You keep your nose out of this.'

'You need Sam to keep you in office,' I said, fighting the tide of anger I felt rising in me. 'That tiger's running for your reelection, and it's a race that's going to cost him his life.'

'I don't have to kill no tiger to get reelected,' Hayes said defensively.

'That's not what I hear.'

'You hear wrong!'

Hayes was breathing hard, his face livid. The deputy, taking his cue from his boss, was glowering at me. It was obvious that my attempt at suave diplomacy was getting me nowhere. Letter or no letter from the Governor, Hayes could be trouble. Bad trouble.

I took a deep breath and sat down in a straight-backed chair by the door.

'Sheriff,' I said quietly, 'I'd like you to explain something to me. You know, as a professional lawman instructing an amateur.'

'What are you talking about?' Hayes said warily. His face had returned to its normal color, a reassuring sign that I did not think was going to last very long.