"Lean up against that cah!" said the cop in front, walking into view. "Watch him, Joe!"

"I don't have time for this," said Heller. "Can't we put this off until business hours?"

"So you tryin' ta squirrel outa it! What else have you stole?" The cop in front advanced threateningly.

"I give up," said Heller. "It's all in the back seat!"

The cop made Heller move forward and bend over the hood. Then he pulled the Karin's door wide and leaned into the car.

Heller moved suddenly!

He kicked the open door.

It flew inward, crashed against the cop's legs!

The door recoiled open again.

Heller was behind it.

Joe fired from the rubbish pile!

The bullet hit the door!

The cop with the bruised legs screamed, "Don' shoot, Joe!"

Heller had the cop by the collar.

He threw him at Joe!

There was a crash by the rubbish pile.

Heller was onto them in a single dive. He reached down, grabbed collars and bashed their heads together.

After the dull clunk of skulls, the cops were inert and quiet.

Heller opened the temporary courthouse door. He located a small closet.

He went out and dragged the unconscious cops in. He took their own cuffs and locked them back to back.

He shut the closet door on them. He looked around the dark interior. "Well," he said, "I guess Stonewall isn't here."

He went out and got into the Karin. After fighting with it a bit, he got it started once more.

He drove down the hill, past the bus station and up the state road to Harvey Lee's.

As the Karin entered the lot, due to the funny shape of its windshield, Harvey Lee evidently could not see who was driving it. He sprinted out of the office laugh­ing. He came up to the car, "Well, Joe," he said, bending down, "I see you got the car back. That was quick!"

Heller's hand shot out and grabbed Lee by the shirt collar. "This is quicker," he said.

Harvey Lee was gargling.

Heller opened the door, shifted hands on the throat. "You don't seem to realize I'm not here to play cops and robbers. Where's some wire?"

Dragging Harvey Lee along, he located some ignition jump wires. He wrapped them around Lee's wrists and ankles. He found and threw the switch that shut off the lot's lights. "We'll just close the place," he said, "to prevent further crooked deals." He dragged Lee over to the Karin and dumped him over the front seat and into the back.

"What happened to the cops?" wailed Lee.

"Some urgent business tied them up at the courthouse," said Heller. "Now, earlier this evening, I asked you a civil question: where is Stonewall Biggs?"

Silence.

"If you cooperate, we'll forget about this so-called deal. Pretend you are not a crooked used-car salesman

now, and pretend you are a guide. Start guiding. Where does Stonewall Biggs live? Or do I get out and put a torch to these cars?"

Lee started babbling directions.

Heller drove back past the bus station, turned down a side street and, at instructions, drew up before a house. The mailbox said Stonewall Biggs.

He parked the car, went through the gate and knocked upon a white-painted door. An old black woman peered out cautiously. "Some young whaht mans," she called over her shoulder into the house interior.

Then the door was thrown wider and Stonewall Biggs was standing there.

I blinked. I had been sure from what I had overheard that he was retired and in a hospital. And here he was, though stooped with age, well and strong.

"Well, Junior!" he cried. "Mah, this sho' is a su'-prise!" And he was pumping Heller's hand and beam­ing. "Cm in, c'm in and set a spell! Mah, am ah glad t'see you, boy!"

He led Heller into the kitchen and sat him in a chair at the table. "We've et. You et? Marcy, git some vittles on. Some of that friahd po'k 'n greens."

"Ah'm mahty glad t'see you well," said Heller, unstrapping his musette bag and laying it on a chair.

"Aw, they cain't kill off an ol' coon dog lahk me," said Stonewall Biggs. "They thought ah was done fo' aftah you pulled me aht of that fiah but ah was jus' singed, jus' singed. Marcy, he do look a bit ga'nt. Hurry up them vittles so's we c'n talk."

Oh, good, I said. Delay him all you can, Stonewall Biggs. I don't know who is in Room 13 of that hospital at Redneck, but the Countess Krak will be there and Torpedo will have his chance.

Marcy delivered and Heller began to eat under the attentive eye of Stonewall Biggs. Always the polite Royal officer, the fool, he said, "Things goin' well with you, Mistah Biggs?"

"Oh, ah cain't complain. Ain't got no cohthouse though. Drafty as all git-out in that temporary buildin'. How goes things with you, Junior?"

"Cain't complain," said Heller.

Seeing his guest had reached his cup of coffee, Stonewall Biggs said, "Is theah anythin' ah c'n do fo' you, Junior?"

"Well, yes theah is. Has a young lady called you?"

Stonewall Biggs shook his head. "No."

I was delighted. The Countess Krak had avoided this trail utterly. She must have another line she was working on. Torpedo would have ample time and chance.

Heller sat there for a bit. He finished his coffee. "Mistah Biggs," he said at last, "tha' naht ah seen you, ah got the impression maybe you knew mo' about the birth than what you sayed."

"Well, tha's raht, Junior. But not much. IPn it maht he'p to ease yo' min', ah'll tahl you. But ah'm afraid it ain't much."

"Be glad t'hear," said Heller.

"Well, one naht abaht fifteen year ago, the doctah, he was purty drunk. He drunk hisself stupid a lotta times so ah got t'wonderin' an', as county clerk, ah fig-gered ah had a raht to know. So ah pried away and he said, 'Ah done a lotta rotten things in mah tahm, but at leas' ah nevah murdered th' two of them.' Tha's all he said.

"But theah'd been rumors aroun' abaht th' Styles girl bein' up nawth in th' shows an' comin' home married to Delbert John Rockecenter. She was all swole up

big an' th' husban' wasn't along. But th' girl disappeahed an' talk died down.

"Ah suppose you'ns is heah 'cause you think yo' grandparents was murdered. But, Junior, you'll nevah prove nothin' at all. Th' chief heah is also county sheriff an' he'd sell his soul fo' a shot a' whaht mule. An' even if it was a funny cah accident, mo' lahk a bomb, y'd nevah get any evidence. So tha's all ah know, Junior." He sat for a while. Then he said, "You mus' be of legal age now. Maybe you c'd he'p rebuil' th' cohthouse. Costs money, labah bein' what it is. Even th' coons git paid these days."

"What was this doctor's name?" said Heller.

"Tremor Graves, M.D. He wuz th' local G. P. heah, had his own hospital. But he drunk too much. He wuz in a rest home fo' a whahl, but ah heah jus' this las' month his rheumatiz got so bad they took him to a hos­pital."

"Where?" said Heller.

"Some doctah friend of his named Price. Owns a private health hospital, Altaprice, ovah in Redneck. Millionaire kin' of place."

"Mistah Biggs, c'd ah ask you the favah of showin' me the way ovah theah?"

"Why, sho', Junior. It's on'y abaht fifteen mile." He went and got his coat and hat.

Heller thanked Marcy for the meal and she beamed.

They went outside.

Heller stared.

THE CAR WAS GONE!

That clever Harvey Lee had apparently got himself untied and probably with another key had spirited the car away!

Biggs evidently supposed somebody had just dropped

T

Heller off, for he opened the prage beside the house and unlocked the door of an old vintage Buick.

Heller, with a glance toward the direction of Harvey Lee's lot, possibly thinking of future revenge, got into the Buick. Biggs backed it out and they were on their way.

I thought fast.

There was yet a way to stop Heller and give Torpedo his chance.

I grabbed the phone. Telling the operator it was a Federal emergency, she rapidly connected me with the Fair Oakes chief. He was evidently at home. He sounded rushed.