a different light on the matter. The
men had all been disguised in places where hair should grow. They were
_not_ bald. There was something abnormal about them. And Harry was
ninety percent certain what it was. The answer was incredible. There was
still a ten-percent margin for error. For Miss Paula Ralston's sake he
hoped he was wrong.

* * * * *

Frank Barnes' message was waiting for him at the switchboard in the
lobby. The word "urgent" was written on it.

He raced upstairs and picked up the phone. Frank answered on the first
ring. He sounded like a man with a gun at his back.

"Harry, what the hell kind of a mess have you gotten yourself into?"

"Why? Something go wrong?"

"You bet your sweet life. An hour after you called me to check on that
Ralston dame a guy came into the office and told me to lay off."

Harry was silent. And scared. His answer looked better all the time.

"What did the guy look like?"

"He looked important, Harry. And he meant business. He had a big bulge
in his pocket and he made it very clear I'd be up to my funny bone in
hot lead if I relayed any information about this girl to you."

"Frank, was the guy wearing a toupee?"

"A what?"

"A toupee, a hair piece!"

"How the hell should I know. I wasn't interested in his coiffure. He was
wearing a black overcoat, he kept his hand on that bulge and he didn't
care much for smiling. Harry, you in trouble with this dame?"

"What did you find out about her, Frank?"

"Between the time you called and the time the guy strolled into the
office I found out she's only had this Personnel Consultant racket for
about three months."

"You didn't learn anything else?"

"After I got warned I decided to wait'll I talked with you."

Harry was silent again. His mind was working.

"Frank, what causes baldness?"

"Baldness! Geez, Harry, you're in a fat mess of trouble and you're
worrying about losing your hair?"

"It's important, Frank. I must find out what causes total loss of _all_
hair."

The detective grunted. "Well, let's see, there are three or four
diseases I know of. Some people claim it's hereditary. Sometimes a
deficiency in the genes ..."

"Okay, Frank, that's enough."

"What do you want me to do about the girl?"

"Just as the man told you. Lay off. I'll call you tomorrow and let you
know what this thing is all about."

He hung up the phone and paced in front of his sofa for several minutes.
It