He needed to do something . . .and having never been in this kind of predicament before . . .he thought about the lawyer . . .hiring one like he told that reporter . . .but could he afford that . . .and he wasn't sure what to do . . .was he in trouble? Yes, he was . . .he knew that. That reporter . . .he sounded like he understood . . .maybe he could help . . .he was just asking questions . . .what was his name . . .? "Ah, Mr. Mason?" Scott heard the timid man's Road Runner voice spoke gently over the phone. Scott had just returned to his desk from Higgins' office. It was after 6P.M. and time to catch a train back home to Westchester. "This is Scott Mason." "Do you remember me?" Scott recognized the voice immediately but said nothing. "We spoke earlier about First State, and I just . . .ah . . .wanted to . . .ah . . .apologize . . .for the way I acted." Scott's confirmation. Hugh Sidneys, the Pee Wee Herman sounding beancounter from First State. What did he want? "Yes, of course, Mr. Sidneys. How can I help you?" He opened his notebook. He had just had his story nixed and he was ready to go home. But Sidneys . . .maybe . . . "It's just that, well, I'm nervous about this . . ." "No need to apologize, Hugh." Scott smiled into the phone to convey sincerity. "I understand, it happens all the time. What can I do for you tonight?" "Well, I, ah, thought that we might, maybe you could, well I don't know about help, help, it's so much and I didn't really know, no I shouldn't have called . . .I'm sorry . . ." The pitch of Sidneys' voice rose as rambled on. "Wait! Don't hang up. Mr. Sidneys. Mr. Sidneys?" "Yes," the whisper came over the earpiece. "Is there something wrong . . .are you all right?" The fear, the sound of fear that every good reporter is attuned to came over loud and clear. This man was terrified. "Yes, I'm OK, so far." "Good. Now, tell me, what's wrong. Slowly and calmly." He eased Sidneys off his panic perch. Scott heard Sidneys compose himself and gather up the nerve to speak. "Isn't there some sorta rule," he stuttered, "a law, that says if I talk to you, you're a reporter, and if I say that I don't want you to tell anybody, then you can't?" Sidneys was scared, but wanted to talk to someone. Maybe this was the time for Scott to back off a little. He stretched out and put his feet up on his desk, making him feel and sound more relaxed, less pressured. According to Scott, he generated more Alpha waves in his brain and if wanted to convey calm on the phone, he merely had to assume the position.