"That's what I said. Bankhead! In the scanning truck! Now get to it! Over."

"Right, Chief."

"Immediately."

"Right, Chief."

"Over and out."

The Old Man put away the Communicator. His eyes were bright and shining. He felt young. For a change he was out of the office and once again, as in his youth, out in the field of operation.

"Dr. Blaine," he snapped.

"Chief?"

"Get that thing out of Mr. Solo's ear."

"Yes, Chief."

Using long pincers, the doctor extracted the object from Solo's ear canal. Solo smiled in relief.

"Mr. Solo."

"Chief?" Solo's smile ended.

"How long will it take us to get to Westbury

"Less than an hour."

"I—I hope we'll be in time."

There could be no reply to that. Only silence—a deep, serious silence—finally broken by Dr. Blaine.

"Chief," he said, holding the earpiece in the pincers, "what do you want me to do with this miniature listening device?"

"Guard it carefully," said the Old Man. "It's going to lead us directly where we want to go."

26. Candy Lulls the Lions

THE DOOR OF Parley's cabin swung open without a knock.

Felix Raymond peered in. Parley was alone.

"All right for us to come in?"

Parley nodded. Raymond entered, followed by Langston and Tito.

Parley, who had been cleaning out his desk, slammed shut an open drawer and came out from behind the desk. Raymond noticed how pale he was, forehead furrowed, mouth grim.

"What's the matter, John?"

"Mr. Raymond, we've got to move the circus as quickly as possible! We've got to get out—tonight!"

In astonishment Raymond looked at his two companions, and then back to Parley.

"That's just what I was going to tell you, John."

"I don't know about your reasons, Mr. Raymond, but mine are most important—absolutely urgent!"

"All right. Let's hear them," growled Raymond.

Parley rapidly recited what he had overheard at Craig's door and what had ensued thereafter.

"They're both back there, unconscious, in Craig's apartment. I've already given orders for the dismantling of the circus."

"Good."

"Can you imagine—Kenneth Craig, a man from U.N.C.L.E.? And this reporter from Scope magazine—a man from U.N.C.L.E.?"

"And the guy in the vault," piped Langston. "No question in my mind now. Also from U.N.C.L.E."

"What guy in what vault?" demanded Parley.

Raymond quickly filled him in. "That's why I was going to tell you that the circus would have to move out tonight."

Parley's frown showed his fright. "You sure that man back there––supposedly Harry Owens––you sure he didn't make contact with U.N.C.L.E. people?"

Raymond sniffed. "You and my partner––a couple of pessimists. Of course I'm sure. Just because he works for U.N.C.L.E. doesn't mean he's a genius. Bad judgment. He held off too long."

"But how can you be so certain?"

"John, I've been in tight spots before; I've had long experience. U.N.C.L.E. isn't crazy. If contact had been made, they'd have stopped us. They'd have had people all around us. They wouldn't give us a gift of six million dollars, would they? Quite simple, my dear man, they wouldn't let us pick up our gold and go away with it. You can bet they wouldn't!"

Langston spoke up. "But they're on to something!"

"Oh, I quite agree," boomed Raymond. "From somewhere they learned something, but not too much. They got a little angle on something, and were trying to learn more."

"Angle?" queried Parley, arching one eyebrow. "From where? From whom?"

"An information leak from one of the idiots in South America."

"Yeah." Tito grinned. "Plenty of wild idiots down there among the crazy Communists."

"Anyway, they were scouting their information to find out if there was anything to it. They put a man on Harry Owens, and they sent a man out here. The guy on Owens either killed or captured him, took his papers and suitcases, changed the picture on the passport, and came to us as Owens. The other guy came to you as a reporter from Scope. But your guy didn't get through to his headquarters, did he, John?"

"Definitely not."

"And neither did our guy, for reasons already stated." Raymond sighed. "I'm not saying I'm happy about the situation but I am saying we've been lucky, and we've got time to clear out. Now, John..."

"Yessir?"

"With Craig out of action, who's going to handle the lions in the cage while we fill up the false bottoms of the feeding troughs in the wagon?"

"His daughter."

"Daughter!"

"A youngster, but she can handle the animals almost as well as her father."

"Where is she?"

Parley smiled. "Resting. Taking a nap. I told her she was going to handle the lions this evening. I told her I had given her father the evening off to go out with his new friend Evan Fairchild." Parley laughed. "He sure is out with his friend Evan Fairchild."

"I repeat, where is she?"

"In a nearby cabin. Brian Powell's."

"Who's Powell?"

"My right hand, my first assistant—and also the public relations man for the circus. As a matter of fact, he's out there now, in charge of the dismantling and packing. But they've started way off on the other side—far away from the lions' wagon."

"Does your Mr. Powell know anything about this?"

"Nothing."

"What reason did you give him for this sudden moving of the circus?"

"Orders from the home office."

"Good work, John."

"Thank you."

"And now, if you please...."

"Sir?"

"Get her!"

John Parley gently shook Candy until she came awake.

"Oh? Already?" She sat up and looked at her watch.

"No," Parley said. "Another thing. A nuisance, but necessary."

She stood up, stretched, yawned. "Be happy to do whatever I can."

"A sudden visit from health inspectors. Now they want to see the lions' wagon, their food, their feeding troughs. Somebody's got to take the lions out of the wagon and into the outdoor cage while the inspectors poke around in the wagon. I wish your father were here. I hate to trouble you with this."

"No trouble at all, Mr. Parley."

Parley accompanied Candy to the cage, while Raymond, Langston, and Tito brought the truck up to the rear of the yellow wagon.

Candy entered the cage and snapped the lion door shut. Then she unbolted the swing door and called the lions out. She talked to them, petted them, ordered them to stay down. The lions sprawled out. Recently fed, they were sleepy. They lay quietly, blinking, two of them already asleep.

"The swing door bolted, Candy?"

"Shut tight, Mr. Parley. Your inspectors are perfectly safe."

Parley went around to the rear and motioned to Tito in the driver's seat. Tito jumped out and opened the doors of the truck for Raymond and Langston. Parley unbolted the rear doors of the huge yellow wagon, and then the four of them, working rapidly, transferred the ingots into the wagon.

Within the hot, stuffy, smelly wagon, they packed the ingots into the false bottoms of the feeding troughs, then quickly restored everything to order.