r the airline timetables in
his mind. "I'll be there nine o'clock, your time," he said. "Have a car
waiting for me at the field."

* * * * *

As usual, Malone managed to sleep better on the plane than he'd been
able to do at home. He slept so well, in fact, that he was still groggy
when he stepped into the waiting car.

"Good to see you, Ken," Boyd said briskly, as he shook Malone's hand.

"You, too, Tom," Malone said sleepily. "Now what's all this about?" He
looked around apprehensively. "No bugs in this car, I hope?" he said.

Boyd gunned the motor and headed toward the San Francisco Freeway.
"Better not be," he said, "or I'll fire me a technician or two."

"Well, then," Malone said, relaxing against the upholstery, "where is
this guy, and who is he? And how did you find him?"

Boyd looked uncomfortable. It was, somehow, both an awe-inspiring and a
slightly risible sight. Six feet one and one half inches tall in his
flat feet, Boyd ported around over two hundred and twenty pounds of
bone, flesh and muscle. He swung a potbelly of startling proportions
under the silk shirting he wore, and his face, with its wide nose, small
eyes and high forehead, was half highly mature, half startlingly
childlike. In an apparent effort to erase those childlike qualities,
Boyd sported a fringe of beard and a mustache which reminded Malone of
somebody he couldn't quite place.

But whoever the somebody was, his hair hadn't been black, as Boyd's
was--

He decided it didn't make any difference. Anyhow, Boyd was speaking.

"In the first place," he said, "it isn't a guy. In the second, I'm not
exactly sure who it is. And in the third, Ken, I didn't find it."

There was a little silence.

"Don't tell me," Malone said. "It's a telepathic horse, isn't it? Tom, I
just don't think I could stand a telepathic horse--"

"No," Boyd said hastily. "No. Not at all. No horse. It's a dame. I mean
a lady." He looked away from the road and flashed a glance at Malone.
His eyes seemed to be pleading for something--understanding, possibly,
Malone thought. "Frankly," Boyd said, "I'd rather not tell you anything
about her just yet. I'd rather you met her first. Then you could make up
your own mind. All right?"

"All right," Malone said wearily. "Do it your own way. How far do we
have to go?"

"Just about an hour's drive," Boyd said. "That's all."

Malone slumped back in the seat and pushed his hat over his eyes.