"You seem to have had a hectic trip from the spaceport, Mr. Ambassador.
What happened?"

Thrombley began accusing our driver of trying to murder the lot of us.
Hoddy brushed him aside and explained:

"Just after we'd took off, two other cars took off after us. We speeded
up, and they speeded up, too. Then your fly-boy, here, got fancy. That
shook 'em off. Time we got into the city, we'd dropped them. Nice job of
driving. Probably saved our lives."

"Shucks, that wasn't nothin'," the driver disclaimed. "When you drive
for politicians, you're either good or you're good and dead."

"I'm surprised they started so soon," Stonehenge said. Then he looked
around at my fellow-passengers, who seemed to have realized, by now,
that they were no longer dangling by their fingernails over the brink of
the grave. "But gentlemen, let's not keep the Ambassador standing out
here in the hot sun."

So we went over the arches at the side of the patio, and were about to
sit down when one of the Embassy servants came up, followed by a man in
a loose vest and blue Levis and a big hat. He had a pair of automatics
in his belt, too.

"I'm Captain Nelson; New Texas Rangers," he introduced himself. "Which
one of you-all is Mr. Stephen Silk?"

I admitted it.

The Ranger pushed back his wide hat and grinned at me.

"I just can't figure this out," he said. "You're in the right place and
the right company, but we got a report, from a mighty good source, that
you'd been kidnapped at the spaceport by a gang of thugs!"

"A blond source?" I made curving motions with my hands. "I don't blame
her. My efficient and conscientious charge d'affaires, Mr. Thrombley,
felt that I should reach the Embassy, here, as soon as possible, and
from where she was standing, it must have looked like a kidnapping.
Fact is, it looked like one from where I was standing, too.
Was that you and your people who were chasing us? Then I must apologize
for opening fire on you ... I hope nobody was hurt."

"No, our cars are pretty well armored. You scored a couple of times on
one of them, but no harm done. I reckon after what happened to Silas
Cumshaw, you had a right to be suspicious."

I noticed that refreshments, including several bottles, had been placed
on a big wicker table under the arched veranda.

"Can I offer you a drink, Captain, in token of mutual amity?" I asked.

"Well, now, I'd like to, Mr. Ambassador, but I'm on duty ..." he began.

"You can't be. You're