Phil wished he knew his own way around better; which of these two had sharper teeth? And which was more likely to stick in a fight? And how do you decipher what a man tells you in the presence of the enemy? And was it the enemy, anyhow? It was hard to see any real difference of attitude between the general and the congressman, when you sat in between them, as he literally was doing now. “You say ‘urgent,’” he formulated carefully. “Does that mean immediate? Or very important?” “Some of both. It _can_ wait a little. Frankly, I think the immediacy is more on _your_ end. Oh, look, I hate to sound cloak-and-dagger; it’s nothing like that. A personal matter--what you were asking me last night. I’ll be more specific if you like, but I assumed--” “That’s all right, Jed,” he broke in. At this point, there was just one thing he had to know. And he saw no reason not to ask. “I take it it’s not from the Dome? You said ‘personal’.” “That’s right.” Jed sounded relieved: presumably he, Phil, now knew what it was all about. He saw no good reason to let Harbridge know that he knew less than ever now. All the personal matters he could think of, right now, were 250,000 miles away.... Except one. But he _knew_ Harbridge wasn’t about to let him talk to John. And if he _was_, why call him _here_ to let him know? That wasn’t it; and it wasn’t from Lisa. So it could wait. “What time do you go out?” he asked. “Twelve, twelve-thirty....” “I’ll try to make it,” Phil said. “I think I can wind things up here pretty soon?” He looked across the desk at McLafferty, who nodded, shrugged, mouthed, _Any time_.... “Right. As soon as you can?” “Right.” He handed the phone back. “Seems something’s come up,” he said briskly. “I want to catch Harbridge if I can before he goes out for lunch. So let me jump in with both feet.” He smiled. “I’m not much good at the ringaroundrosy you boys play, anyhow.” “You do all right,” the congressman said ruefully. “Thanks. I think. Look, is there still anything you want to ask me? Before we do it in public, I mean?” “Nothing awfully important. We’ve about covered the ground.” “Okay. Then there’s something _I_ want to _tell_ you.” He saw the other man brace himself almost imperceptibly, and smiled again. “Relax, man. I didn’t say _tell you off_. I said _tell_. Like, information. What you’re after. Pay dirt, man.” McLafferty was mentally balancing on the balls of his feet, with both arms up, guarding. _Change of pace_, Phil thought approvingly. _Always works._ Reluctantly, he admitted he could probably get pretty good at this kind of bull if he had to. “Okay,” Mac said, on balance again. “This is the sure-enough assay office. Let’s see what color your dirt is.” “I assume anything I tell you here is confidential--I mean as far as the press is concerned?” “Well, I can’t give you a blanket _yes_ on that. Anything you tell me that bears on the investigation, I can’t keep concealed....”