any visible effort. It
was a heart-stopping performance. He sailed clear over the chesterfield
and Doan, landing hard enough to rattle the window panes. He licked
his chops delicately and politely with a long, red tongue.
"Yes," said Doan. "I said, steak. But not right now. Wait until I finish
my business with these gentlemen. In the meantime, lie down before
somebody knocks you down."
Carstairs sprawled out on the floor and rolled over on his side with a
resigned snort.
Doan nodded at Arne and Barstow. "Well, what can I do for you?"
"You're not a private detective any more," Arne told him.
"Oh, yes," said Doan.
"No. You don't work for the Severn International Detectives now."
"Yes, I do," said Doan. "They don't dare fire me. If I started to talk
about that outfit, they'd be bankrupt in five minutes and on their way to
jail in ten--if they weren't lynched first."
"Maybe. But anyway, they've loaned you to the government
temporarily."
"No," said Doan.
Arne took a letter from his pocket and opened it. "Read this."
Doan read the letter. He came to the signature, and his eyes widened
slowly. He read the letter again, and then he folded it up very carefully
and handed it back to Arne.
"If you want to call Washington at your expense, you can verify the
signature," Arne said.
Doan shook his head. "That won't be necessary. So I'm loaned to the
government. All right. What does that make me?"
"A Japanese," Arne said.
"Oh, I don't think the Japs would go for that," Doan told him. "My eyes
don't slant enough."
"Not a Japanese national," Arne explained. "A Jap agent."
"A spy!" Doan chortled, pleased. "Now that's something like it! I've
always wanted to be a spy. Does it pay well?"
"To you, it pays nothing," Arne informed him. "You're donating your
services."
"Oh," said Doan glumly. "What services?"
"You are to go to the Mojave Desert and find a man named
Dust-Mouth Haggerty and buy from him the secret of the location of an
ore deposit."
"What kind of ore?" Doan asked.
"You wouldn't know if I told you, and besides it's none of your
business. Dust-Mouth will know what you're after. Don't pretend to be
a mining expert. Tell him you're the forerunner of a Japanese invasion
force, sent ahead to locate this deposit so they can take it over when
they come and use what they get out of it to blow Washington off the
map. Understand that?"
"Yes," said Doan. "But if you don't mind me saying so, it sounds a little
on the screwy side from where I sit."
"That's how we want it to sound."
"Oh," said Doan. "I take it that this Dust-Mouth Haggerty doesn't like
Washington?"
"Not even any at all," Arne confirmed.
"Why not? That is, providing you admit that you need a reason."
"Have you ever heard of Boulder Dam?"
"Sure."
"That's why. Dust-Mouth claims it was built as part of a conspiracy to
defraud him."
"Was it?" Doan asked.
"You'd better practice up thinking so if you're going to negotiate with
Dust-Mouth. He had a gold claim on the Colorado River. He was
washing out about thirty cents in gold a day. After Boulder Dam was
built the river backed up over his claim so that now he can't get at it. He
says that was the real reason the dam was built, just to destroy his
claim."
"It seems like the long way around," Doan commented.
"Not to Dust-Mouth. His claim was investigated, and he was offered
compensation for it, but he wouldn't accept. He says the thirty cents a
day was merely the forerunner. He says he was just about to uncover
the greatest gold deposit the world has ever seen, such an immense
quantity of gold that it would have made him financial emperor of the
United States, disturbed the world's balance of trade, and resulted in
international crises by the dozen. He says the politicians in Washington
built the dam to prevent him from doing that."
"When did he get out?" Doan inquired.
"Of where?"
"Of the insane asylum."
"Six months ago. Don't get the idea that he's a complete whack. He's
not. He's a monomaniac. He's hipped on this one point. Other than that,
he's pretty shrewd and sometimes nasty. He's just got a mad on with
Washington, and he really means it. We've come at him from every
direction, but he can spot a government man for a mile, and all he does
is froth at the mouth."
"Hmmm," said Doan. "This ore I'm on the hunt for doesn't have
anything to do with his gold claim, does it?"
"No. Dust-Mouth is an old-time desert rat. He's been prowling around
in the Mojave for forty years. He
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