ucation of James Holden, a legal minor, who
seems never to have been enrolled in any school."

"If you don't mind," replied Tim Fisher, "I'll not answer anything
without the advice of my attorney."

Janet Fisher gasped.

Tim turned with a smile. "Don't you like lawyers, honey?"

"It isn't that. But isn't crying for a lawyer an admission of some sort?"

"Sure is," replied Tim Fisher. "It's an admission that I don't know all
of my legal rights. If lawyers come to me because they don't know all
there is to know about the guts of an automobile, I have every right to
the same sort of consultation in reverse. Agree, James?"

James Holden nodded. "The man who represents himself in court has a fool
for a client," he said. "I think that's Daniel Webster, but I'm not
certain. No matter; it's right. Call Mr. Waterman, and until he arrives
we'll discuss the weather, the latest dope in high-altitude research, or
nuclear physics."

Frank Manison eyed the lad. "You're James Holden?"

"I am."

Tim interrupted. "We're not answering _anything_," he warned.

"Oh, I don't mind admitting my identity," said James. "I've committed no
crime, I've broken no law. No one can point to a single act of mine that
shows a shred of evidence to the effect that my intentions are not
honorable. Sooner or later this whole affair had to come to a showdown,
and I'm prepared to face it squarely."

"Thank you," said Manison. "Now, without inviting comment, let me explain
one important fact. The state reserves the right to record marriages,
births, and deaths as a simple matter of vital statistics. We feel that
we have every right to the compiling of the census, and we can justify
our feeling. I am here because of some apparent irregularities, records
of which we do not have. If these apparent irregularities can be
explained to our satisfaction for the record, this meeting will be ended.
Now, let's relax until your attorney arrives."

"May I get you some coffee or a highball?" asked Janet Fisher.

"Coffee, please," agreed Frank Manison. Chief Colling nodded quietly.
They relaxed over coffee and small talk for a half hour. The arrival of
Waterman, Tim Fisher's attorney, signalled the opening of the discussion.

"First," said Manison, his pencil poised over a notebook, "Who lives here
in permanent residence, and for how long?" He wrote rapidly as they told
him. "The house is your property?" he asked Tim, and wrote again. "And
you are paying a rent