"George," I insisted. "Something is shaky. If she's on the inside, how did she ever get picked up?" He laughed. "Just part of her cover. Fred Plaice got too close. We know what he is, Gyp. But we didn't dare to have him guess what your mother was. She's on her way to a nice California vacation. New assignment after that. Maybe middle Europe. After all, she _is_ a gypsy. Ought to go well, say, in Bulgaria!" THE END Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from _Analog_ July 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.