15

Morley and the triplets were sitting around looking smug when I showed up at the Tate place with my travel bag on my shoulder. “You guys earned your keep? Or are you just in practice for the next time the Grinning Death comes through?”

Morley stopped gnawing a carrot long enough to say, “We thumped some heads this morning, Garrett.”

Doris bobbed his head and chortled something in dialect. Morley said, “He just claimed he broke twenty heads himself. He’s exaggerating. There weren’t more than fifteen guys involved. I recognized some of them. Second-raters. Whoever hired them was trying to get by on the cheap. He got what he paid for.”

I wondered if any of them had recognized Morley. “Did they get away with anything?”

“A lot of bruises and a few fractures.”

“I mean anything physical.”

“That isn’t physical enough for you?”

“Damn it, you know what I mean.”

“Testy in the morning, aren’t we? You didn’t pay a bit of attention when I explained about fiber.”

“Morley!”

“No. Nothing.”

“Thank you.”

“What’s in the bag?”

“My travel gear. We’re headed out.”

“Today?”

“You have some reason to hang around?”

“Not really. You just caught me by surprise.”

That was the idea. “The arrangements are made. You guys are ready to go. We’ll head for the boat from here and hide out there till we pull out.”

“Boat? What are you talking, boat?”

Morley was ghost-spooked pale. The triplets looked green around the gills, which was something for Doris and Marsha, who were a lovely shade of pale lime to begin.

“Boat?” Morley croaked again.

“Boat. We’ll barge down to Leifmold, then catch a coaster headed south. We’ll stay with it as far as we can. Then we’ll put ashore and finish what we have to overland.”

“We mix with water worse than oil does, Garrett.”

“Nonsense. All the great navigators were elvish.”

“All the great navigators were crazy. I get seasick watching the water-spider races. Which may explain why I can’t bet them worth squat.”

“Probably not enough starch in your diet.”

He looked at me with hurt puppy eyes. “Let’s take it overland, Garrett.”

“Not on your life. I don’t get along with horses.”

“So we walk. The triplets can carry—”

“Who’s paying the wages, Morley?”

He did nothing but scowl.

“Right. The boss says we take boats as far as we can, then we do it the hard way. You have your boys pick up and pack up. We head out in fifteen minutes.”

I went and hunted up Pop Tate and told him I’d be doing the job and would be leaving the city shortly. We dickered awhile about expense money. To end up with what I wanted I had to give him what he wanted, a pretty complete outline of my plans.

I could change them, of course.

I don’t like letting people in on everything. It subverts my reputation for being unpredictable.