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"Are you telling me Crane's ego is still smarting?" "Senator Crane did, in the spirit of co-operation, mention certain leaks in your department." "What in hell are you talking about?" "I'd watch my tone if I were you, Taber. You aren't talking to one of your legmen now!" Taber's teeth came tight together. "I'm sorry. Let me repeat the question.
Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle the chuckle of a soul in damnation. Neither the American Express nor Cook's had received mail for Howard Taber; he was not on either list. This was irregular. A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters.
I don't believe his name is Taber." O'Higgins tore free the scarlet band of his perfecto, the end of which he bit off with strong white teeth, and smiled. You certainly had to hand it to these Chinks. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself.
"Can you pull him through?" was the anxious question. "Hope to. The next few hours will tell. But it's an odd case. His name is Taber?" "Howard Taber." "Confidentially, I'm assured that he has another." "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes not a single clew to his real identity. And stony broke."
Anyhow, Brent Taber showed me this here guy all cut up and I said it wasn't Jack and well, that was that." "What room did Brent Taber take you to?" "The damn place smelled like a skunk factory." "What room number?" "Ten twenty-six I think. Yeah, ten twenty-six it was, and I'm telling you, if you go in there, for Christ sake wear a gas mask. I damn near "
And out of that wall yonder would boil battle and murder and sudden death. A white man, wandering about the streets of Canton at night, was a challenge to such a catastrophe. Taber. Ruth stared thoughtfully at the waiting coolies. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock.
"You can go to hell, King. I want no part of any more of your ideas. I've had it. If I see the creature I'll call Taber and nobody else. I'm going to do exactly what he told me to do. Mark me off your list." Frank Corson strode away. Les King stood watching him. King shrugged. Just another bewildered citizen who thought God lived in Washington.
"Oh, be quiet," Entman said with friendly petulance. "I was going to say that I was rather proud of those details. If our hostiles out there follow my specifications, they'll create androids with much smaller lungs and non-porous skin that will give them no end of trouble when they start chasing frightened householders down the streets of the world." Taber chuckled.
Maybe, maybe not. If not, what is Crane after? He's certainly achieved his purpose in getting even with an upstart government appointee. "Okay," Brent Taber said decisively. "You can have the body. Come with me." He got up, put on his hat, and strode out through the reception room and into the corridor. Charles Blackwell came scuttling along behind.
Sally Taber still ruled the Great House under the disguise of grateful dependent. She slept in the loft over the kitchen, made life a possible thing for a helpless woman and a young girl, and asked nothing for herself in return. "If that woman doesn't have a crown studded two deep with jewels some day," Marcia Lowe confided to Tod Greeley, "I'll miss my guess."
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