ner--" Goode began.

"Aah!" Rand cried. "So that concerns the Rivers murder, does it? Well!
When did you find that out, now? When Kirchner called you, you had no
objection to his giving me that revolver. What changed your mind for
you? Didn't you know that Rivers was dead, then?" Rand watched Goode
trying to assimilate that. "Or didn't you think I knew?"

Goode cleared his throat noisily, twisting his mouth. The others were
looking back and forth from him to Rand, in obvious bewilderment; they
realized that Rand had pulled some kind of a rabbit out of a hat, but
they couldn't understand how he'd done it.

"What I mean is that since then you have allowed yourself to become
involved in this murder case. You have let it be publicly known that you
are a private detective, working for the Fleming family," Goode orated.
"How long, then, will it be before it will be said, by all sorts of
irresponsible persons, that you are also investigating the death of Lane
Fleming?"

"Well?" Rand asked patiently. "Are you afraid people will start calling
that a murder, too?"

Gladys was looking at him apprehensively, as though she were watching him
juggle four live hand grenades.

"Is anybody saying that now?" Varcek asked sharply.

"Not that I know of," Rand lied. "But if Goode keeps on denying it, they
will."

"You know perfectly well," Goode exploded, "that I am alluding to these
unfounded and mischievous rumors of suicide, which are doing the Premix
Company so much harm. My God, Mr. Rand, can't you realize--"

"Oh, come off it, Goode," Varcek broke in amusedly. "We all--Colonel Rand
included--know that you started those rumors yourself. Very clever--to
start a rumor by denying it. But scarcely original. Doctor Goebbels was
doing it almost twenty years ago."

"My God, is that true?" Nelda demanded. "You mean, he's been going around
starting all these stories about Father committing suicide?" She turned
on Goode like an enraged panther. "Why, you lying old son of a bitch!"
she screamed at him.

"Of course. He wants to start a selling run on Premix," Varcek explained
to her. "He's buying every share he can get his hands on. We all are." He
turned to Rand. "I'd advise you to buy some, if you can find any, Colonel
Rand. In a month or so, it's going to be a really good thing."

"I know about the merger. I am buying," Rand told him. "But are you sure
of what Goode's been doing?"

"Of course," Gladys put in contemptuously. "I al