Jubal interrupted when at last he figured out what the boy was talking about. “Son, I don’t want to know what you did, nor how you did it. What you did was just what was needed—perfect, just perfect. But—” He blinked owlishly. “—don’t tell me about it. Don’t ever tell anybody about it.”

“Not?”

“‘Not.’ It was the damnedest thing I’ve seen since my uncle with the two heads debated free silver and triumphantly refuted himself. An explanation would spoil it.”

“I do not grok rightly?”

“Nor do I. So let’s not worry and have another drink.”

Reporters and other newsmen started arriving while the party was still climbing. Jubal received each of them with courteous dignity, invited them to eat, drink, and relax—but to refrain from badgering himself or the Man from Mars.

Those who failed to heed his injunction were tossed into the pool. At first Jubal kept Larry and Duke at flank to administer the baptism as necessary. But, while some of the unfortunate importunates became angry and threatened various things which did not interest Jubal (other than to caution Mike not to take any steps), others relaxed to the inevitable and added themselves to the dousing squad on a volunteer basis, with the fanatic enthusiasm of proselytes—Jubal had to stop them from ducking the doyen lippmann of the New York Times for a third time.

During the evening Dorcas came out of the house, sought out Jubal and whispered in his ear: “Telephone, Boss. For you.”

“Take a message.”

“You must answer it, Boss.”

“I’ll answer it with an ax! Duke, get me an ax. I’ve been intending to get rid of that Iron Maiden for some time—and tonight I’m in the mood for it.”

“Boss . . . you want to answer this one. It’s the man you spoke to for quite a long time this afternoon.”

“Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” Jubal lumbered upstairs, made sure his study door was bolted behind him, went to the phone. Another of Douglas’ sleek acolytes was on the screen but was replaced quickly by Douglas. “It took you long enough to answer your phone.”

“It’s my phone, Mr. Secretary. Sometimes I don’t answer it at all.”

“So it would seem. Why didn’t you tell me that this Caxton fellow is an alcoholic?”

“Is he?”

“He certainly is! He isn’t missing—not in the usual sense. He’s been off on one of his periodic benders. He was located, sleeping it off, in a fleabag in Sonora.”

“I’m glad to hear that he has been found. Thank you, sir.”

“He’s been picked up on a technical charge of ‘vagrancy.’ The charge won’t be pressed—instead we are releasing him to you.”

“I am very much in your debt, sir.”

“Oh, it’s not entirely a favor! I’m having him delivered to you in the state in which he was found—filthy, unshaven, and, I understand, smelling like a brewery. I want you to see for yourself what sort of a tramp he is.”

“Very well, sir. When may I expect him?”

“Almost at once, I fancy. A courier arrow left Nogales some time ago. At Mach three or better it should be over-head soon. The pilot has instructions to deliver him to you and get a receipt.”

“He shall have it.”

“Now, Counsellor . . . having delivered him, I wash my hands of it. I shall expect you, and your client, to appear for talks whether you fetch along that drunken libeller or not.”

“Agreed. When?”

“Shall we say tomorrow at ten? Here.”

“‘’Twere best done quickly.’ Agreed.”

Jubal went back downstairs and paused at his broken door. “Jill! Come here, child.”

“Yes, Jubal.” She trotted toward him, a reporter in close formation with her.

Jubal waved the man back. “Private,” he said firmly. “Family matter. Go have a drink.”

“Whose family?”

“A death in yours, if you insist. Scat!” The newsman grinned and accepted it. Jubal leaned over Gillian and said softly, “It worked. He’s safe.”

“Ben?”

“Yes. He’ll be here soon.”

“Oh, Jubal!” She started to bawl.

He took her shoulders. “Stop it,” he said firmly. “Go inside and lock your door until you get control of yourself. This is not for the press.”

“Yes, Jubal. Yes, Boss.”

“That’s better. Go cry in your pillow, then wash your face.” He went on out to the pool. “Quiet everybody! Quiet! I have an announcement to make. We’ve enjoyed having you—but the party is over.”