Chapter 8

           Atnineo’clockthenextmorning,whileIwashavingathirdcupofcoffeeinthekitchen(mywifesaidnothing,butIcouldseedisapprovallargeonherfacewhenshebroughtittome),thetelephonerang.Iwentintotheparlortotakeit,andCentraltoldsomeonethattheirpartywasholdingtheline.Shethentoldmetohaveabirdlarkydayandrangoff...presumably.WithCentral,youcouldneverquitetellforsure.

           HalMoores’svoiceshockedme.Waveryandhoarse,itsoundedlikethevoiceofanoctogenarian.ItoccurredtomethatitwasgoodthatthingshadgoneallrightwithCurtisAndersoninthetunnellastnight,goodthathefeltaboutthesameaswedidaboutPercy,becausethismanIwastalkingtowouldverylikelyneverworkanotherdayatColdMountain.

           "Paul,Iunderstandtherewastroublelastnight.IalsounderstandthatourfriendMr.Wetmorewar,involved."

           "Aspotoftrouble,"Iadmitted,holdingthereceivertighttomyearandleaningintowardthehorn,"butthejobgotdone.That’stheimportantthing."

           "Yes.Ofcourse."

           "CanIaskwhotoldyou?"SoIcantieacantohistail?Ididn’tadd.

           "Youcanask,butsinceit’sreallynoneofyourbeeswax,IthinkI’llkeepmymouthshutonthatscore.ButwhenIcalledmyofficetoseeiftherewereanymessagesorurgentbusiness,Iwastoldaninterestingthing."

           "Oh?"

           "Yes.Seemsatransferralapplicationlandedinmybasket.