h a grin. "I'm the guy that pulled you
out."

"Thanks," I said, offering a hand.

He chuckled. "Steve, consider the hand taken and shook, because I've
enough grime to muss up a regiment."

"It won't bother me," I said.

"Thanks, but it's still a gesture, and I appreciate it, but let's be
sensible. I know you can wash, but let's shake later. What can I do for
you?"

"I'd like a first-hand account, Phil."

"Not much to tell. Dad and I were pulling stumps over about a thousand
feet from the wreck. We heard the racket. I am esper enough to dig that
distance with clarity, so we knew we'd better bring along the block and
tackle. The tractor wouldn't go through. So we came on the double, Dad
rigged the tackle and hoisted and I took a running dive, grabbed and
hauled you out before the whole thing went _Whoosh!_ We were both lucky,
Steve."

I grunted a bit but managed to nod with a smile.

"I suppose you know that I'm still trying to find my fiancee?"

"I'd heard tell," he said. He looked at me sharply. I'm a total blank as
a telepath, like all espers, but I could tell what he was thinking.

"Everybody is convinced that Catherine was not with me," I admitted.
"But I'm not. I know she was."

He shook his head slowly. "As soon as we heard the screech of brakes and
rubber we esped the place," he said quietly. "We dug you, of course. But
no one else. Even if she'd jumped as soon as that tree limb came into
view, she could not have run far enough to be out of range. As for
removing a bag, she'd have had to wait until the slam-bang was over to
get it out, and by the time your car was finished rolling, Dad and I
were on the way with help. She was not there, Steve."

#You're a goddam liar!#

Phillip Harrison did not move a muscle. He was blank telepathically. I
was esping the muscles in his stomach, under his loose clothing, for
that first tensing sign of anger, but nothing showed. He had not been
reading my mind.

I smiled thinly at Phil Harrison and shrugged.

He smiled back sympathetically, but behind it I could see that he was
wishing that I'd stop harping on a dead subject. "I sincerely wish I
could be of help," he said. In that he was sincere. But somewhere,
someone was not, and I wanted to find out who it was.

The impasse looked as though it might go on forever unless I turned away
and left. I had no desire to leave. Not that Phil could help me, but
even though this was a dead end, I was loath to leave the