things here, remember?" He smiled, exposing yellow
teeth.

"Real bad things, they wouldn't like them at all. And I can prove all
them things. Me, I ain't got no responsibility. I'm just a poor, little
old guy you keep around for laughs, remember?" He chuckled.

"You tell them to take me out and shoot me? I should laugh. You reach
for that button. Go ahead. Stick your finger out. Then this thing here,
it sings you a little song. And I go get some papers I got somewhere
around here. And I go get some recordings. And maybe a few pictures.
And then Old Jake's a public hero. And he takes a lot of money and goes
away from here, he should spend his old age some place where he likes
it better." He waved the weapon again.

"Still want to play?"

Stern's face was bloodless. He dropped into his chair, then put his
head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Jake," he said. "Sorry. I guess I'm just a little tired
right now. Forget it, will you?"

"Sure, Danny-boy. Sure. We forget all about it. Now suppose we quit for
the night, eh? Then in the morning, we get this Masterson fellow in
here. And you find out from him just who he is and why he comes here.
And you can let him tell us what he's been doing and who he's been
working with, eh?" Gorham smiled and stuck the weapon back in his
sleeve.

"We ain't doing so bad," he went on. "We ain't doing bad at all." He
reached out to stir the papers on Stern's desk with a forefinger.

"These people up at Riandar, they don't do so good maybe on that Waern
kid. But they don't do so bad all the time. They get this Masterson,
see? Right away, they're on him, soon as this guy Rayson gets himself
killed off."

Stern nodded. "Yes," he admitted, "at least, they did have the sense to
pick up Masterson--after he'd done plenty of damage. They were pretty
slow. And they missed the Michaels boy entirely. So now, the Waern boy
is out of easy reach." He frowned.

"We had things set up for an elimination on him, you know."

Gorham wagged his head. "Makes very little. Him, we can get. Him, they
take care of in a couple days. Same operation, they should just move it
a few miles, eh? Your boy with all them buttons, he takes care of that,
see?" He grinned.

"And that takes care of this Michaels kid, too." Again, he poked at the
papers.

"And here, we got another report. This young Michaels' father, he talks
to this guy Masterson on the phone. You see that? And right away, he
heads for the mountains. Maybe