aimless sight-seeing. If they were
shadowing him, they would have nothing to report, he grinned. Not during
the day, at least. What the evening would bring forth would perhaps be
another matter.

For he had determined to at least get in touch with the SS man who had
written that note. He would have dinner at the Golden Web, if they
served meals. If not, he would have a drink anyway. The two men
certainly should know each other by sight.

He went briefly to the hotel, but there had been no calls for him. So he
took a ground-cab to the cafe, which turned out to be a pretentious,
garish one. Inside he made his way to that part of the long, busy bar
presided over by a slim, blond man.

Hanlon climbed onto a stool. "Gimme a good old Kentucky mint-julep,
suh," he demanded, "an' be doggoned suah it's made right."

The bartender eyed him peculiarly. "Where's this Kentucky and what's a
mint-julep?"

"On Terra, of course, where I came from. Where'd you think it was, on
Andromeda Seven?"

"Pardon me, sir. I seem to remember now, having heard of such a drink.
I'll have to look it up in the recipe-book--I disremember the
ingredients."

Hanlon grinned and lost his appearance of truculence. "It's partly made
of Blue Grass, like a 'horse's neck.' But if it's too much trouble, just
give me a Cola."

The barkeep grinned, too. "I gotcha, Steve," and poured out the soft
drink.

Hanlon sat sipping his innocuous drink, looking about him quietly. A
large-sized crowd was beginning to fill the place--well-dressed,
evidently fairly prosperous people, but he could see that they were not
the real upper-class, but the slightly-off-shade climbers.

His drink finished Hanlon signalled his friendly barman. "The grub here
any good? This looks like a nice place."

"Yes, it is. One often hears some interesting things here. As for the
food, it is very good, and not too expensive. They have a native fowl
much like chicken I think you'd like. Ask for _poyka_, in whatever style
you like it fixed. Glad to be of service, sir, any time, in any way."
The last words were slightly emphasized.

Hanlon had ordered and was waiting for his food when a man he had never
seen before slipped into the seat opposite him.

"The Boss wants to see you."

"Yeah?" Hanlon looked him up and down almost contemptuously. "Just who
is this 'boss' who's interested in me?"

"Cut the clowning. You know who. At the Bacchus. Now!"

"So." Hanlon let himself appear slig