m
to be present. He meant to tell him the facts. The intimacy between them
was now very close, and he felt that Pink would understand. He neither
wanted nor expected approval, but he did want honesty between them. He
had based his life on honesty.

Yet the thing was curiously hard to lead up to. It would be hard to set
before any outsider the conditions at the Boyd house, or his own sense
of obligation to help. Put into everyday English the whole scheme
sounded visionary and mock-heroic.

In the end he did not tell Pink at all, for Pink came in with excitement
written large all over him.

"I sent for you," he said, "because I think we've got something at last.
One of our fellows has just been in, that storekeeper I told you about
from Friendship, Cusick. He says he has found out where they're meeting,
back in the hills. He's made a map of it. Look, here's the town, and
here's the big hill. Well, behind it, about a mile and a half, there's a
German outfit, a family, with a farm. They're using the barn, according
to this chap."

"The barn wouldn't hold very many of them."

"That's the point. It's the leaders. The family has an alibi. It goes in
to the movies in the town on meeting nights. The place has been searched
twice, but he says they have a system of patrols that gives them
warning. The hills are heavily wooded there, and he thinks they have
rigged up telephones in the trees."

There was a short silence. Willy Cameron studied the rug.

"I had to swear to keep it to ourselves," Pink said at last. "Cusick
won't let the Federal agents in on it. They've raided him for liquor
twice, and he's sick as a poisoned pup."

"How about the county detectives?"

"You know them. They'll go in and fight like hell when the time comes,
but they're likely to gum the game where there's any finesse required.
We'd better find out for ourselves first."

Willy Cameron smiled.

"What you mean is, that it's too good a thing to throw to the other
fellow. Well, I'm on, if you want me. But I'm no detective."

Pink had come armed for such surrender. He produced a road map of the
county and spread it on the desk.

"Here's the main road to Friendship," he said, "and here's the road they
use. But there's another way, back of the hills. Cusick said it was a
dirt lane, but dry. It's about forty miles by it to a point a mile or so
behind the farm. He says he doesn't think they use that road. It's too
far around."

"All right," said W