erwise even she,
with all her training, couldn't sell such a big bill of goods." Then, in
answer to the man's unspoken question, "Yes, we're all different. She's
the contactor, the spreader of the good old oil, the shining example of
purity and sweetness and light--in short, the Greaser of the Ways. I'm a
fighter, myself. Do you think she could actually have de-handed those
men? Uh-uh. At the last minute she would have weakened and brought them
in whole. My job in this operation is to knock hell out of the ones Lola
can't convince, such as those spies you and I are going to interview
pretty quick."

"Even they ought to be convinced. I don't see how anybody could help but
be."

"Uh-uh. It'll bounce off like hailstones off of a tin roof. The only
thing to do to that kind of scum is kill them. If you'll give me a
thought as to where your office is we'll hop over and...."

* * *

Belle and Avengord disappeared from the stand; and, such was Lola's
hold, no one on the platform or in the throng even noticed that they
were gone. They materialized in Avengord's private office; he sitting as
usual at his desk, she reclining in legs-crossed ease in a big leather
chair.

"... get to work." Belle's thought had not been interrupted by any
passage of time whatever. "What do you want to do first?"

"But I thought you were covering Miss Montandon?"

"I am. Like a blanket. Just as well here as anywhere. I will be, until
she gets back to the _Pleiades_. What first?"

"Oh. Well, since I don't know what your limits are--if you have any--you
might as well do whatever you think best and I'll watch you do it."

"That's the way to talk. You're going to get a shock when you see who
the Head Man is. George T. Basil."

"_Basil_! I'll say it's a shock!" Avengord steadied, frowned in
concentration. "Could be, though. _He_ would _never_ be suspected--but
they're very good at that."

"Yeah. His name used to be Baslovkowitz. He was trained for years, then
planted. None of this can be proved, as his record is perfect. Born
citizen, highest standing in business and social circles. Unlimited
entry and top security clearance. Right?"

"Right ... and getting enough evidence, in such cases as that, is pure,
unadulterated hell."

"I suppose I could kill him, after we've recorded everything he knows,"
Belle suggested.

"No!" He snapped. "Too many people think of us as a strong-arm squad
now. Anyway, I'd rather kil