leman. You know we're working for the
good of those boys, don't you?"

"Well, I--"

"Sure we are," Malone said. "So you can tell me."

Kettleman blinked behind his glasses, and moaned a little. Malone waited
with his hands tense in his lap. At last Kettleman said: "It's on West
Street, near Chambers. That's downtown." He gave Malone an address.
"That's where it is," he said. "But you won't ... do anything to the
boys, will you? They're basically good boys. No matter what. And they--"

"Don't worry about it, Mr. Kettleman," Malone said. "We'll take care of
the Spooks."

"Oh," Kettleman said. "Yes. Sure."

He got up. Malone said: "There's just one more thing, Mr. Kettleman."

"Yes?" The big man's voice had reached the high, breathy pitch of a
fife.

[Illustration]

"Do you have any idea what time the Spooks usually meet?"

"Well, now," Kettleman said, "I don't really know. You see, the reason I
wanted to tell you all this was because Lieutenant Lynch was checking up
on all those boys yesterday, and I thought--" He stopped and cleared his
throat, and when he began again his voice had dropped almost to a
whisper: "Well, Mr. Malone, I thought, after all, that since he was
asking me questions ... you know, questions about where they were, the
Spooks I mean, and all of that ... since he was asking me questions--"

"Yes?" Malone said.

"I thought perhaps I ought to tell you about them," Kettleman said.
"Where they were, and all of that."

Malone stood up. "Mr. Kettleman," he said in his most official voice, "I
want you to know that the FBI appreciates what you've done. Your
information will probably be very helpful to us, and the FBI certainly
commends you for being public-spirited enough to come to us and tell us
what you know." He thought for a second, and then added: "In the name of
the FBI, Mr. Kettleman--well done!"

Kettleman stared, smiled and gulped. "My goodness," he said "Well." He
smiled again, a little more broadly. "One has one's duty, you know. My,
yes. Duty." He nodded to Malone.

"Of course," Malone said, going to the door and opening it. "Thanks
again, Mr. Kettleman."

Kettleman saw the open door and headed for it blindly. As he left he
flashed one last smile after Malone, who sighed, shut the door and
leaned against it for a second.

The things an FBI agent had to go through!

* * * * *

When he had recovered, he opened the door again and peered carefully