estions, I don't give out answers. Fair?"

There was, after all, nothing else to say. "Fair," Malone told him,
and rode the rest of the way in total silence.

* * * * *

Buying the papers in Las Vegas took more time than Malone had
bargained for. He had to hunt from store to store to get a good,
representative selection, and there were crowds almost everywhere
playing the omnipresent slot-machines. The whir of the machines and
the low undertones and whispers of the bettors combined in the air to
make what Malone considered the single most depressing sound he had
ever heard. It sounded like a factory, old, broken-down and unwanted,
that was geared only to the production of cigarette butts and old
cellophane, ready-crumpled for throwing away. Malone pushed through
the crowds as fast as possible, but nearly an hour had gone by when he
had all his papers and hailed another cab to get him back to the
hotel.

This time, the cabbie had a smiling, shining face. He looked like
Pollyanna, after eight or ten shots at the middleweight title. Malone
beamed right back at him and got in. "Great Universal," he said.

"Hey, that's a nice place," the cabbie said heartily, as they started
off. "I heard there was a couple TV stars there last week and they got
drunk and had a fight. You see that?"

"Just arrived this afternoon," Malone said. "Sorry."

"Oh, don't worry," the cabbie assured him. "Something's always going
on at the Universal. I hear they posted a lot of guards there, just
waiting for something to come up now. Something about some shooting,
but I didn't get the straight story yet. That true?"

"Far as I know," Malone said. "There's a lot of strange things
happening lately, aren't there?"

"Lots," the cabbie said eagerly. He meandered slowly around a couple
of bright-red convertibles. "A guy owned the _Last Stand_, he killed
himself with a gun today. It's in the papers. Listen, Mister, funny
things happen all the time around here. I remember last week there was
a lady in my cab, nice old bat, looked like she wouldn't take off an
earring in public, not among strangers. You know the type. Well, sir,
she asked me to take her on to the Golden Palace, and that's a fair
ride. So on the way down, she--"

Fascinated as he was by the unreeling story of the shy old bat, Malone
interrupted. "I hear there's a roadblock up now, and they're searching
all the cars. Know anything about that?"

The ca