“An ex-convict, you say?”

“Sure, didn’t you know?”

“I wasn’t—a very close friend of his.”

“Hey, you after him to collect some money from him, maybe?”

“No. Nothing like that. You see, one of Mack Wilson’s friends is in very serious trouble, and Mack could be of some help if I could find him. What was he convicted of, do you know?”

“Did two years at San Quentin for robbery, that’s what they said.”

“I see,” Lowry said weakly. “And you don’t have any idea—”

“Afraid not.”

“Okay,” he said. “I guess that’s all, then. Thanks a lot for your help.”

“Thanks for nothing, mister.”

The door slammed. Lowry walked away, his shoulders drooping in a defeated slump.

Chalk off one possibility for an avenue of defense.

It looked bad for McKay.

Very bad.

There were so few leads that could help him. And this one had fizzled completely and absolutely. Let alone the improbability of ever being able to locate any given migratory worker in as broad an area as Orange County, it would do hardly any good at all even if the man were to be found in time for trial. Hadn’t the lawyer stressed the point that the witness for the defense would have to be absolutely reliable? What hope would there be for the acceptability of testimony from a witness who had served two years at San Quentin? He would be laughed off the stand, if Reynolds ever brought him up to testify, which Reynolds would never do. So he had to cross off the Mack Wilson avenue.

11

11

Depressed, Lowry drove back to his office. Phone calls and press releases had piled up in his absence, and he attended to them for a while, letting the routine and meaningless work take his mind off the sour feeling of defeat that oppressed him.

Finally, his desk clear, he began to write his column for the next day. The words flowed rapidly as his nimble fingers leaped over the keys of his ancient typewriter. When he had finished turning out the daily quota, he leaned back in the swivel chair and read the column through to see the feel of it. As he came to the last paragraph, he smiled with satisfaction. The last item he had written read as follows—

If you’re on top in this town—and for all I know in every other town—make good and sure you stay there. And if you ever need a better reason for this sage bit of advice than just my say-so, I suggest you look through the papers of the past few days and learn a lesson from the experiences of Bob McKay.