u play games with a mob like this? Do you think they're
going to play fair? You're no clod, you know better than that--" He
leaned over her, trembling with anger. "You set me up for a sucker, but
the plan fell through. And now I'm running around loose, and if you
thought I was dangerous before, you haven't seen anything like how
dangerous I am now. You're going to tell me some things, now, and you're
going to tell them straight. You're going to tell me where Harry
Dartmouth went with those files, where they are right now. Understand
that? _I want those files._ Because when I have them I'm going to do
exactly what I started out to do. I'm going to write a story, the whole
rotten story about your precious father and his two-faced life. I'm
going to write about Dartmouth Bearing Corporation and all its flunky
outfits, and tell what they've done to this country and the people of
this country." He paused, breathing heavily, and sank down on a chair,
staring at her. "I've learned things in the past twenty-four hours I
never dreamed could be true. I should be able to believe anything, I
suppose, but these things knocked my stilts out from under me. This
country has been had--right straight down the line, for a dozen years.
We've been sold down the river like a pack of slaves, and now we're
going to get a look at the cold ugly truth, for once."

She stared at him. "What do you mean--about my precious father--?"

"Your precious father was at the bottom of the whole slimy mess."

"No, no--not dad." She shook her head, her face chalky. "Harry
Dartmouth, maybe, but not dad. Listen a minute. I didn't set you up for
anything. I didn't know what Dartmouth and Mariel were up to. Dad left
instructions for me to contact Harry Dartmouth immediately, in case he
died. He told me that--oh, a year ago. Told me that before I did
anything else, I should contact Dartmouth, and do as he said. So when he
died, I contacted Harry, and kept in contact with him. He told me you
were out to burn my father, to heap garbage on him after he was dead
before the people who loved him, and he said the first thing you would
want would be his personal files. Tom, I didn't know you, then--I knew
Harry, and knew that dad trusted him, for some reason, so I believed
him. But I began to realize that what he said wasn't true. I got the
files, and he said to give them to you, to string you along, and he'd
pick them up from you before you had a chance to do any harm wi