umb out. He wants a ride."

"Don't give him one," Barby interjected urgently. "He might recognize
you."

"He's hitchhiking," Scotty explained. "He doesn't even know I exist."

"What are his chances?" Rick asked.

"Good. There's a fair amount of traffic."

Rick waited, alert for Scotty's next report. It came almost
immediately. "I'm moving. A truck picked him up. Stand by."

Then soon afterward, "We're coming into the outskirts of town."

Rick walked from the newspaper office to the sidewalk and leaned
casually against the building, eyes on the direction from which the
quarry and Scotty would come. He felt just fine. The little network
was taking all the strain out of shadowing. He thought of the many
times when such communications would have come in very handy indeed.

"Moving down Main Street," Scotty reported. "Watch it!"

Rick saw a truck come into sight and slow as it neared the barbershop.
A man got out, thanked the driver, then stood looking around. He
spotted the barbershop, but instead of going in, he went to the window
of the Sports Center and stood quietly, ostensibly inspecting
equipment. Rick decided he was just looking the street over before
making contact.

"I'm on him," he said quietly for Scotty's benefit. "He's casing the
street. He'll probably go into the barbershop any minute now."

Scotty drove down the main street, and as he passed the barbershop, he
reported, "There's a man in the chair. Maybe our friend is waiting for
him to leave."

"We'll see."

Rick's plans had not gone beyond this point. The objective had been to
see whether the houseboaters made contact with the barber. But now he
realized that a simple contact wasn't proof of anything. Who was to
say that the houseboater hadn't really wanted a haircut?

If only there were some way of overhearing the conversation....

Jerry Webster came out and stood beside him. "See your man?"

Rick gestured. "In front of the Sports Center."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I was just wondering the same thing."

Jerry grinned. "Don't tell me you don't have a complete plan! Why, I
thought by now you'd have the barbershop wired for sound."

Rick stared at him. Wired! Why not? And it wasn't too late, if Jerry
would help.

"Will you do something more for me?"

Jerry looked martyred. "Might as well. I'm in this up to my neck,
anyway."

Scotty joined them. He had parked the car around the corner. "What's
happening?"

"Just had a b