close to my pistol, with my thumb on the inconspicuous
little spot of silver inlay that operated the secret holster mechanism.

I saw Hutchinson and Palme and Thrombley ahead. With them was a
newcomer, a portly, ruddy-faced gentleman with a white mustache and
goatee, dressed in a white suit. Gail broke away from me and ran toward
him. This, I thought, would be her father; now I would be introduced and
find out just what her last name was. I followed, more slowly, and saw a
waiter, with a wheeled serving-table, move in behind the group which she
had joined.

So I saw what none of them did--the waiter suddenly reversed his long
carving-knife and poised himself for a blow at President Hutchinson's
back. I simply pressed the little silver stud on my belt, the
Krupp-Tatta popped obediently out of the holster into my open hand. I
thumbed off the safety and swung up; when my sights closed on the rising
hand that held the knife, I fired.

Hoddy Ringo, who had been holding a sandwich with one hand and a drink
with the other, dropped both and jumped on the man whose hand I had
smashed. A couple of Rangers closed in and grabbed him, also. The group
around President Hutchinson had all turned and were staring from me to
the man I had shot, and from him to the knife with the broken handle,
lying on the ground.

Hutchinson spoke first. "Well, Mr. Ambassador! My Government thanks your
Government! That was nice shooting!"

"Hey, you been holdin' out on me!" Hoddy accused. "I never knew you was
that kinda gunfighter!"

"There's a new wrinkle," the man with the white goatee said. "We'll have
to screen the help at these affairs a little more closely." He turned to
me. "Mr. Ambassador, New Texas owes you a great deal for saving the
President's life. If you'll get that pistol out of your hand, I'd be
proud to shake it, sir."

I holstered my automatic, and took his hand. Gail was saying, "Stephen,
this is my father," and at the same time, Palme, the Secretary of State,
was doing it more formally:

"Ambassador Silk, may I present one of our leading citizens and large
ranchers, Colonel Andrew Jackson Hickock."

Dumbarton Oaks had taught me how to maintain the proper diplomat's
unchanging expression; drinking superbourbon had been a post-graduate
course. I needed that training as I finally learned Gail's last name.

CHAPTER VI

It was early evening before we finally managed to get away from the
barbecue. Thrombley had calle