"Only two seen his face, Gros," Miche said, "and they're out of the picture." He turned to me. "That was a nice bit of work, mister, knocking off Souvet; and nobody ain't going to miss Pinay neither. By the way, where's the gun? Better let me have it." He held out his hand. "I had to leave it," I said. "Tripped and dropped it in the dark." Miche grunted. "The Boss will be interested in this," Gros said. "He'll want to see him." Someone else panted up the stairs into the room. "Say, Chief," he began, "we make it trouble in the tower--" He stopped dead as he caught sight of me, and dropped into a crouch, utter astonishment on his face. His hand clawed for a gun at his hip, found none, as his eyes darted from face to face. "What--what--" Gros and Miche burst into raucous laughter, slapping the table and howling. "At ease, Spider," Miche managed. "Bayard's throwed in with us." At this even Chica snickered. Spider still crouched. "OK, what's the deal?" he gasped. "I don't get it." He glared around the room, face white. He was scared stiff. Miche wiped his face, whooped a last time, hawked and spat on the floor. "OK, Spider, as you were," he said. "This here's a ringer. Now you better go bring in the boys. Beat it." Spider scuttled away. I was puzzled. Why did some of them take one startled look and relax, while this fellow was apparently completely taken in? I had to find out. There was something I was doing wrong. "Do you mind telling me," I said, "what's wrong with the get-up?" Miche and Gros exchanged glances again. "Well, my friend," Gros said, "it's nothing we can't take care of. Just take it easy, and we'll set you right. You wanted to step in and take out the Old Man, and sit in for him, right? Well, with the Organization behind you you're as good as in." "What's the Organization?" I asked. Miche broke in. "For now we'll ask the questions," he said. "What's your name? What's your play here?" I looked from Miche to Gros. I wondered which one was the boss. "My name's Bayard," I said. Miche narrowed his eyes as he rose and walked around the table. He was a big fellow with small eyes. "I asked you what's your name, mister?" he said. "I don't usually ask twice." "Hold it, Miche," Gros said. "He's right. He's got to stay in this part, if he's going to be good; and he better be plenty good. Let's leave it at that; he's Bayard." Miche looked at me. "Yeah," he said, "you got a point." I had a feeling Miche and I weren't going to get along. "Who's backing you, uh, Bayard?" Gros said. "I play a lone hand," I said. "Up to now, anyway. But it seems I missed something. If your Organization can get me in, I'll go along." "We'll get you in, all right," Miche said.