"You're a busy man," McLeod finally said. "I detest inactivity. I assume since you wrote Mayor Spurgess into office, you are going to protect his name. Miss Kent, could you excuse yourself for a moment?" Tracy waited until McLeod nodded, then stood up and mumbled something about going to powder her nose. McLeod lit a cigaret and waited. "Now we can talk," Wainwright said. "Recognize the spirit in which this is said, McLeod: you're a fine reporter." "Thanks." "But you're as good as dead. We've written your obituary." Strangely, the announcement brought no fear. Although it had only been a couple of hours, McLeod felt as if he'd been living with the idea for years. "You haven't printed it yet." "In time. But we don't have to print it. Naturally, it's news, McLeod. You have a well-known name. But there are others equally well-known. More well-known. We can come up with a wrongo occasionally. Basically, we want to kill you because you're too valuable to the _Star-Times_." "Your motive doesn't interest me. And I have some news for you: I'm a long way from dead." "Don't be melodramatic, McLeod. We'll get you. A routine assassination-accident doesn't often become a wrongo, you know that. We have decided to make an offer to you." Now McLeod's skin did begin to crawl. Statistically, the assassination-accident case was more fool-proof than any other. Gunmen commanded good salaries and did their work expertly. Ninety-five per cent accuracy could be expected. "I'm listening." "Join the _World_." "Come again?" "I'm sure you heard me. Quit the _Star-Times_ and join us. We'll match your salary, we won't kill you--" "But the _Star-Times will_!" "You'd be valuable to us, aside from your abilities as a reporter. No doubt, they've included you in any long-range plans they might have. We'll have them piling up wrongos from now till doomsday." "Which is exactly why they'll have me killed if I become a turncoat." "We'll offer you full protection." "I'm already getting full protection--from the _Star-Times_," McLeod lied. It was almost a tempting offer, although its virtues were purely negative. The _Star-Times_ had refused to offer him protection because Overman thought it would be simpler and more certain to serve up a substitute reporter for the kill. If McLeod accepted Wainwright's offer, at least he'd be able to sleep easy regarding Crippens. But if the _World's_ real purpose was to remove McLeod from the _Star-Times'_ staff, one way or the other, they might risk an all-out Tong War and still gun for him. Besides, no turncoat newspaperman had ever survived six months. McLeod knew it and was sure Wainwright knew it and guessed the _World_ reporter was promising him all he could under the circumstances--a temporary reprieve. "I know what you're thinking," Wainwright told him. "The _Star-Times_ will get you if you turn on them. If necessary, they'll drop everything else until you're dead." "Well, yes. That's just what I was thinking."