y, making
yourself vanish?"

"I'll make the whole damn police force vanish," Malone said, "in a
couple of minutes. I called to ask a favor."

"Anything," Lynch said. "Anything within my poor power. Whatever I
have is yours. Whither thou goest--"

"Knock it off," Malone said, and then grinned. After all, there was no
sense in making an enemy out of Lynch.

Lynch blinked, took a deep breath, and said in an entirely different
voice, "Okay, Malone. What's the favor?"

"Do you still have that list of Silent Spooks?" Malone said.

"Sure I do," Lynch said. "Why? I gave you a copy of it."

"I can't do this job," Malone said. "You'll have to.".

"Yes, sir," Lynch said, and saluted.

"Just listen," Malone said. "I want you to check up on every kid on
that list."

"And what are we supposed to do when we find them?" Lynch said.

"That's the trouble," Malone said. "You won't."

"And why not?"

"I'll lay you ten to one," Malone said, "that every one of them has
skipped out. Left home. Without giving a forwarding address."

Lynch nodded slowly. "Ten to one?" he said. "Want to make that a money
bet? Or does the FBI frown on gambling?"

"Ten dollars to your one," Malone said. "Okay?"

"Made," Lynch said. "You've got the bet--just for the hell of it,
understand."

"Oh, sure," Malone said.

"And where can I call you to collect?"

Malone shook his head. "You can't," he said. "I'll call you."

"I will wait with anxiety," Lynch said. "But it had better be before
eight. I get off then."

"If I can make it," Malone said.

"If you can't," Lynch said, "call me at home." He gave Malone the
number, and then added, "Whatever information I get, I can keep for my
own use this time, can't I?"

"Hell," Malone said, "you've already got all the information you're
going to get. I just gave it to you."

"That," Lynch said, "we'll see."

"I'll call to collect my money," Malone said.

"Well talk about it later," Lynch said. "Farewell, old pal."

"Flights of angels," Malone said, "sing thee to thy rest."

Malone replaced the microphone and headed for the door. Halfway there,
however, he stopped. He hadn't had any tequila in a long time, and he
thought he owed it to himself. He felt he had come out ahead in his
exchange with Lynch, and another medal was in order.

Only a small one, though. He told himself that he would order one
tequila and quit. Besides, he had to meet Dorothy.

He sat down on one of the tall bar stools