gray-haired
little vault attendant with whom she dealt with had taken a fatherly
interest in her. When she saw he was still on the job, Trigger was
certain the matter would go off all right.

It did. He didn't take a really close look at her until she shoved her
signature and Federation identification in front of him. Then his head
bobbed up briskly. His eyes lit up.

"Trigger!" He bounced out of his chair. His right hand shot out. "Good
to see you again! I've been hearing about you."

They shook hands. She put a finger to her lips. "I'm here incog!" she
cautioned in a low voice. "Can you handle this quietly?"

The faded blue eyes widened slightly, but he asked no questions. Trigger
Argee's name was known rather widely, as a matter of fact, particularly
on her home world. And as he remembered Trigger, she wasn't a girl who'd
go look for a spotlight to stand in.

He nodded. "Sure can!" He glanced suspiciously at the nearest customers,
then looked down at what Trigger had written. He frowned. "You drawing
out everything? Not leaving Ceyce for good, are you?"

"No," Trigger said. "I'll be back. This is just a temporary emergency."

That was all the explaining she had to do. Four minutes later she had
her money. Three minutes after that she had paid for the Dawn City
reservation as Birna Drellgannoth and deposited her thumbprints with the
ticket office. Counting what was left, she found it came to just under a
hundred and thirty-eight.

Definitely no dinner tonight! She needed a suitcase and a change of
clothing. And then she'd just better go sit in that hotel room.

The street level traffic was moderate around the bank, but it began to
thicken as she approached a shopping center two blocks farther on.
Striding along, neither hurrying nor idling, Trigger decided she had it
made. The only real chance to catch up with her had been at the bank.
And the old vault attendant wouldn't talk.

Half a block from the shopping center, a row of spacers on planet-leave
came rollicking cheerily toward her, uniform jackets unbuttoned, three
Ceyce girls in arm-linked formation among them, all happily high.
Trigger shifted toward the edge of the sidewalk to let them pass. As the
line swayed up on her left, there was a shadowy settling of an aircar at
the curb to her right.

With loud outcries of glad recognition and whoops of laughter, the line
swung in about her, close. Bodies crowded against her; a hand was
clapped over her m