"Look, we had a minor scrap, the three of us. Those walls are like paper. Half the building heard it and came pounding on the door. Bruce could not have been--hurt, as he was--in that place. It would have to be somewhere else. Consider all the practical difficulties, finding an abandoned warehouse or whatever. Getting an automobile, for heaven's sake! Where would paupers like those two find the money to rent a car, even for a day? "Oh, well, if we stretch our reasoning all out of shape, we can say they _might_ have done all that. But one thing they could never have managed, and that was to capture Bruce in the first place. He would have tied them in bowknots." "Bruce?" She was openly bewildered. "Yes. Stop thinking of him as a mere bookworm. Bruce and I were going to pack into Kings Canyon, which is still pretty wild. And he was taking up judo, and doing quite well. A gun could have taken him prisoner, of course, but the Michaelises don't have a gun; they'd have gone for it last night if one were on the premises. So Bruce would have had to be slugged from behind. But there was no mark of a club on his body, no anesthetic--I have that from the police. Weaponless, neither Gene nor his father could have held Bruce for ten seconds. They're both strong, but they fall over themselves. I threw them with baby techniques." "That's right," she said, "you do go in for judo, don't you? But Bruce said you were an expert." "I only wear a brown belt so far. Bruce, of course, was a white. He could not have coped with one or two men who knew how to handle themselves--not necessarily judo men, just experienced fighters." _Consider Terry Larkin._ "However, he could certainly have thrown two unarmed Michaelises. Take my word for it. I know." "Oh." She studied her hands for a while. "They'll be released in a few days at the outside," said Kintyre. "The most elementary procedures will show they're innocent. I can think of a dozen lines of proof myself. To be sure, you may be subjected to some publicity before that happens, but it will never get as far as a grand jury. Believe me." "Thank you." When she smiled, he could see no other thing in all that dingy building. "I always seem to be thanking you." "Which I find pleasant enough," he bowed. "Why don't we go down to the station and explain it right now?" she asked hesitantly. "You're not afraid of being arrested for the fight, are you? That wasn't your fault." "Oh, no. But my testimony and my reasoning aren't legally conclusive," he evaded. "It would help a lot. It might get them out, tip the scales. I feel so sorry for them now. That poor old man!" Kintyre looked straight into the green eyes. "Will you trust me a little bit?" he said. "Will you take my word that we can't do it immediately?" _Because the police would inquire further. Did I indeed hurt my arm and my head in that fracas? No, say the Michaelises. Where, then? I do not think their search would end short of Guido, your brother._