I felt myself blushing.

“All right, so I lost my head. When you backed up into the area under the stairs I couldn’t see you anymore. What did happen down there? I heard a funny clanking sound. You didn’t hit that thing with your bare fist, did you?”

It was Tony’s turn to redden.

“I wasn’t thinking straight either,” he admitted, trying to hide his scraped knuckles.

“Left hook or right jab?” George asked with interest.

“Oh, shut up,” Tony growled. “The whole thing was confusing. I guess I can’t blame you for not seeing what happened. I don’t remember myself. I did swing at the damned thing. Felt like I broke my arm. After that everything went black.”

“We’ll forget the whole thing,” I said magnanimously. “You’d better get some sleep, Tony. We’ll all be more sensible in the morning.”

“Right.” George got to his feet. “Tony, old boy, I’ll be sitting up the rest of the night, with my door open. Don’t worry about a thing. I won’t let anyone get to you.”

I pushed George bodily out the door.

I didn’t sleep well that night. I guess Tony didn’t either; he was up early. I had been sort of hanging around. I figured he might need some help, and that he would be as reluctant to ask for it as I was to offer it directly. As soon as I heard his door open I stepped casually into the hall. He had gotten into his clothes without assistance, but he looked as if he had not enjoyed the process; he held his left arm at an awkward angle, and his face was all bony points and gray hollows.

He gave me a look of solid dislike, and I dropped the arm I was about to offer him.

“Where’s Nolan?” he asked brusquely.

“In his room, I guess. Why?”

“I want to talk to him.”

“Can I come?” I asked meekly.

“Sure, why not? If I’m going to eat crow, I might as well have an audience.”

Intrigued, I trailed along after him. George answered the door right away; alert and bright-eyed, stylishly dressed in brown slacks and a fresh white sport shirt, he was a sight for sore eyes. He hauled Tony over the threshold and deposited him in a chair.

“God, you look terrible,” he remarked. “Didn’t I tell you not to worry? I sat up most of the night, didn’t see a thing. Never need more than three, four hours sleep…. What’s on your mind, Tony?”

“You made me an offer yesterday. I’m ready to take you up on it.”

“Now I wonder,” said George thoughtfully, “why you changed your mind.”

“Good God,” Tony said querulously. “After last night, how can you wonder? It may be you or Vicky who gets the ax next time. Worst of all, it might be me again. We foreigners ought to form a protective alliance. I don’t intend to take you by the hand and lead you to the shrine. But I’m willing to share some of my brilliant deductions in exchange for some help.”