“Greetings,” Gargantua said. “I am Myles Croft.”

“Uh—a pleasure. I suppose.” Dar was willing to take a chance on it; after all, the man couldn’t get in. “Let me guess—you’re the landlord, and it’s the first of the month.”

“Closer than you intended.” The mouth didn’t smile, but the eyes twinkled. “I have the honor to be mayor of Haskerville.”

Dar levered his jaw back in place and swallowed.

“We’re doing better than I thought,” Sam said behind him. “The Humes’re getting chummy with the mayor.”

“Not particularly.” The irony in Croft’s voice had to be humor. “No one needed to tell me where you were hidden. Once I’d heard that you’d escaped from the House of Houses, it was obvious you’d be somewhere back in Haskerville—and, since I knew the lady of the party was a Hume, it was logical to conclude you’d seek refuge in this quarter.”

Sam nodded. “All right, so far as it goes—but how’d you know about the two of us? … Hold on, cancel that! Of course. If the police knew, you’d know. But how’d you know we’d been taken to Sard, let alone that we’d escaped?”

“I have my sources.”

“Interesting, interesting.” Dar nodded slowly. “But how’d you know which building to look in?”

“If anyone had hidden you, it would logically be Anthony Marne, who’s as much of a leader as the Humes have.”

“Angry-young-man type?”

“I thought you’d met. Therefore, you’d probably be hidden in his building—so I surveyed the establishment floor by floor, until I realized one hall was noticeably shorter than the others. Beyond that, I believe you heard my search for the activating control.”

Dar just stared.

Then he gave his head a quick shake. “Did you ever consider taking up detective work?”

“Frequently, young man—and I frequently do. The mayor should know something about the goings-on in his own city.”

“But if you know all that, the House shouldn’t be able to get away with anything, and ninety percent of your citizens ought to be in jail.”

The huge face smiled into waves of fat. “You are observant, young man. I leave it to your imagination to determine why all are still at large. Suffice it to say that I have some rather elaborate plans, which are working rather well in practice; but they result in a delicate balance, which could very easily be upset by a new and random factor.”

Dar’s spine turned into an icicle. “You mean us.”

Croft nodded. “It is in my interest to see that you’re removed from my planet as quickly as possible.”

“Shouldn’t you have brought along a little protection on this jaunt?” Sam asked grimly.

“I think not. I’ve discussed you with a friend of mine, and he seems to have high regard for you.”

“Well, it’s nice to have a good reference.” Dar was wary. “Who’s our yea-sayer?”

“A Mr. Tambourin; he styles himself ‘Whitey the Wino.’ And, too, I think, all things considered, that the best way to remove you from circulation is to assist you in your progress.”

“You mean you’ll get us out of here?” Dar pounced on it.

“I had that in mind, yes. You’ve certainly done nothing meriting permanent incarceration; but the longer you’re here, the more disruptive you’ll be. And I don’t relish having two police forces on my planet.”

“Two?” Now it was Sam who pounced. “Where’d the second one come from?”

“A gentleman named Canis Destinus, I believe. He came to me yesterday morning, bearing a letter ‘To Whom It May Concern,’ from the Secretary for Internal Security for the I.D.E., requesting the reader to aid Mr. Destinus in any way possible. But the Secretary, as you may know, is head of the reactionary LORDS party …”

“I didn’t,” Sam said, “but I’m glad to.”

“Mr. Destinus seems to be more than he appears,” Dar said softly.

“Really? I thought his appearance quite indicative; looks somewhat like a rat.”

“I take it you don’t quite approve of the LORDS?”

“Not germane.” Croft dismissed the point with a wave of his hand. “Fortunately, in such circumstances, the letter of the law requires a planetary official, such as myself, to make certain lengthy verifications of the applicant’s bona fides, including the Secretary’s signature; so I explained to Mr. Destinus that I would probably be able to accord him my full cooperation early next week.”

“As I said.” Dar grinned. “You don’t approve of the LORDS.”

“Be that as it may; Mr. Destinus did not seem disposed to wait. So I assumed, when I began to receive reports of pairs of police officers who were definitely not among those I had employed, that Mr. Destinus had induced my cooperation by his own initiative, possibly with Sard’s assistance.”

“He hired some bullyboys from the House to impersonate cops,” Dar translated. “But I can see your problem; the longer we’re around, the longer you’ve got a second, but illegal, police force.”

“Of course, I have ways of making such an enterprise prohibitively expensive for Mr. Sard—but not while the LORDS’ bottomless purse is open to him. However if you depart. Mr. Destinus will leave in pursuit of you.”

“Makes excellent sense,” Dar agreed, “from your point of view.”

“And from yours, I should think.”

“As far as it goes,” Sam said cautiously. “Problem is, when we do leave, we’re a little picky about where we’re going.”

“Young Hume, where you go is entirely your own affair.”

“Nice theory,” Dar approved. “Unfortunately, once you’re on a freighter, it’s kind of hard to persuade it to change its destination.”

“Come to that,” Sam chimed in, “there aren’t any ships of any kind scheduled to lift off for a month. How’re you getting us out of here?”

Croft sighed. “Haskerville is the only town of any size on the planet; we’ve something near ninety percent of the population here. Accordingly, I’m de facto planetary governor, as well as mayor. So I’ve authority over all I.D.E. equipment here; and part of that inventory is a small fleet of outmoded I.D.E. scout ships. I’ve arranged for Mr. Tambourin to buy one, as government surplus.”

“To buy a spacer?” Dar’s eyes fairly bulged. “All by himself?”

“Government surplus is ridiculously inexpensive,” Croft noted.

“Even so—a spacer! How much money does this guy have?”

“Not much, after this little purchase.” Sam smiled up at the mayor. “Can we hitch a ride, Mr. Croft?”

“Hey, hold on!” Dar caught her arm. “What do you mean, hitch a ride? We can’t trust this man!”

Sam turned back, frowning up at him. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Dar spluttered. “I mean … look! We’re on the run! He’s the law!”

“That’s right, he’s the law. So if he says to let us go, they’ll let us go.”

“But … but …”

“Look,” Sam said, with forced patience, “I’m a good judge of character. Have you ever known me to be wrong about who I could trust, and who I couldn’t?”

Dar started to answer, then hesitated.

“Including you,” Sam reminded.

Dar sighed and capitulated. “All right. You win.” He looked toward Croft. “When does the next bus leave?”

With a load like Croft in it, Dar wouldn’t’ve thought the armchair could support any more. But it had lift to spare; they glided through the deserted streets of Haskerville perched on the arms like a couple of children come to recite their Christmas lists to Santa.

After a little while, Dar said, “It occurs to me that what you’ve got here is a planetful of grifters and marks, about evenly divided.”

Croft nodded agreeably. “An oversimplification, but accurate within its limits.”

“In fact, you could almost say it’s got the potential for becoming a balanced society.”

“The potential, perhaps,” Croft agreed.

“How do you manage to keep the House of Houses from totally destroying the citizens?”

Croft smiled, amused. “Come now, young man! You give me too much credit. Even a criminal realizes that he must take care of his geese if he wants them to grow more feathers for plucking.”