ly in
determining the facts regarding the case before it. You may call your
witnesses, Mr. Ambassador." He glanced at his watch. "Court will now
recess for an hour and a half; can you have them here by 1330?"

I assured him I could after glancing across the room at Ranger Captain
Nelson and catching his nod.

My first witness, that afternoon was Thrombley. After the formalities of
getting his name and connection with the Solar League Embassy on the
record, I asked him, "Mr. Thrombley, did you, on the morning of April
22, receive a call from the Hickock ranch for Mr. Cumshaw?"

"Yes, indeed, Mr. Ambassador. The call was from Mr. Longfellow, Colonel
Hickock's butler. He asked if Mr. Cumshaw were available. It happened
that Mr. Cumshaw was in the same room with me, and he came directly to
the screen. Then Colonel Hickock appeared in the screen, and inquired
if Mr. Cumshaw could come out to the ranch for the day; he said
something about superdove shooting."

"You heard Mr. Cumshaw tell Colonel Hickock that he would be out at the
ranch at about 1030?" Thrombley said he had. "And, to your knowledge,
did anybody else at the Embassy hear that?"

"Oh, no, sir; we were in the Ambassador's private office, and the screen
there is tap-proof."

"And what other calls did you receive, prior to Mr. Cumshaw's death?"

"About fifteen minutes after Mr. Cumshaw had left, the z'Srauff
Ambassador called, about a personal matter. As he was most anxious to
contact Mr. Cumshaw, I told him where he had gone."

"Then, to your knowledge, outside of yourself, Colonel Hickock, and his
butler, the z'Srauff Ambassador was the only person who could have known
that Mr. Cumshaw's car would be landing on Colonel Hickock's drive at or
about 1030. Is that correct?"

"Yes, plus anybody whom the z'Srauff Ambassador might have told."

"Exactly!" I pounced. Then I turned and gave the three Bonney brothers a
sweeping glance. "Plus anybody the z'Srauff Ambassador might have
told.... That's all. Your witness, Mr. Sidney."

Sidney got up, started toward the witness stand, and then thought better
of it.

"No questions," he said.

The next witness was a Mr. James Finnegan; he was identified as cashier
of the Crooked Creek National Bank. I asked him if Kettle-Belly Sam
Bonney did business at his bank; he said yes.

"Anything unusual about Mayor Bonney's account?" I asked.

"Well, it's been unusually active lately. Ordinarily, he carries around
two-