t to the
window and tossed the cigarette out into the Washington breeze. "How
are things, anyhow, Ken?" he said.

"Things are confused," Malone said. "Aren't they always?"

Boyd came back to the desk and sat down in a chair at one side of it.
He put his elbow on the desk. "Sure they are," he said. "I'm confused
myself, as a matter of fact. Only I think I know where I can get some
help."

"Really?" Malone said.

Boyd nodded. "Burris told me I might be able to get some information
from a certain famous and highly respected person," he said.

"Well, well," Malone said. "Who?"

"You," Boyd said.

"Oh," Malone said, trying to look disappointed, flattered and modest
all at the same time. "Well," he went on after a second, "anything I
can do--"

"Burris thought you might have some answers," Boyd said.

"Burris is getting optimistic in his old age," Malone said. "I don't
even have many questions."

Boyd nodded. "Well," he said, "you know this California thing?"

"Sure I do," Malone said. "You're looking into the resignation out
there, aren't you?"

"Senator Burley," Boyd said. "That's right But Senator Burley's
resignation isn't all of it, by any means."

"It isn't?" Malone said, trying to sound interested.

"Not at all," Boyd said. "It goes a lot deeper than it looks on the
surface. In the past year, Ken, five senators have announced their
resignations from the Senate of the United States. It isn't exactly a
record--"

"It sounds like a record," Malone said.

"Well," Boyd said, "there was 1860 and the Civil War, when a whole lot
of senators and representatives resigned all at once."

"Oh," Malone said. "But there isn't any Civil War going on now. At
least," he added, "I haven't heard of any."

"That's what makes it so funny," Boyd said. "Of course, Senator Burley
said it was ill health, and so did two others, while Senator Davidson
said it was old age."

"Well," Malone said, "people do get old. And sick."

"Sure," Boyd said. "The only trouble is--" He paused. "Ken," he said,
"do you mind if I smoke? I mean, do you mind the smell of cigars?"

"Mind?" Malone said. "Not at all." He blinked. "Besides," he added,
"maybe this one won't smell like a cigar."

"Well, the last one did," Boyd said. He took a cigarette out of a pack
in his pocket, and lit it. He sniffed. "You know," he said, "you're
right. This one doesn't."

"I told you," Malone said. "Must have been a bad cigarette. Spoiled or
something."