down his paper and smiled as the
trio approached. It was then Dawson had a vague feeling he had seen that
thin face somewhere quite recently. Then as Agent Carter made the
introductions, it came to Dawson. Agent Hickson had been the man next in
line behind him when he had bought tickets for the hockey game. As he
shook hands and mumbled some pleasantry, Dave realized he had seen that
thin face other places, too, during the day.

"Did I give you as much trouble, Agent Hickson," he asked, "as Farmer
seems to have given Agent Carter?"

"No, Captain," the other replied with a twinkle in his eye. "And don't
ever go in for crime. You'd be a cinch."

"With those big flat feet, it would be obvious!" Freddy Farmer chuckled,
as the red climbed into Dawson's face.

"Okay, okay!" Dave growled and grinned at the same time. "I'm not like
you, with things on your conscience! So naturally I wouldn't even give
it a thought that anybody was following me. But look, Agent Hickson, can
you add anything to what Agent Carter has told us? Which was absolutely
nothing."

"I'm afraid I can't, Captain." Hickson smiled, and shook his head.
"Carter and I are just a couple of slaves who do what we're told and ask
no questions."

"But you do know _something_, only you won't tell us, what?" Freddy
Farmer pressed the issue.

The F.B.I. man shook his head again and made a little cross mark over
his heart.

"I honestly don't know a thing," he said, "except that I like this
particular job. I'm from New York, you know. And I'm a hockey fan, in
case Carter hasn't told you."

"He has," Dawson grinned, and glanced at his wrist watch. "And I sort of
go for the game, myself. It's hours, though, before game time. Anybody
have any suggestions what to do until then? Listen, Freddy! Eating is
strictly out, at least for a couple of hours!"

"You don't have to shout, old thing; I hear you," the English youth
replied. "Yes, I have a suggestion. I've been meaning to see that United
Nations display they have at Radio City. What say we go back to the
hotel and clean up a bit? These blasted American shoes I bought
yesterday are killing me."

Dawson started to shake his head, but instantly checked the movement. A
gleam leaped into his eyes.

"Fair enough," he said. "I could do with a clean shirt myself. Come on.
We'll take a cab."

During the cab ride across town to the hotel, they talked of this and
that and nothing in particular. When the cab pulled up