Cleansing

the broad drive from the restaurant. He straightened up and ran for the front of the pickup. The truck was already onto the blacktop before the big man joined Jared and Doc. "Thanks, Dan," said Jared. "I know you remember Doctor Walsh." A wide grin creased the young man's face, and he extended his hand to the doctor. As he reached forward the seam of the uniform shirt split with a loud RI-P, and Jared began to laugh out loud. Doc still looked confused. "Jared, just what is all this? I don't want you to get me into anything illegal." Jared suppressed a laugh with a deep breath. "Doc, I told you that there was no way for the law to help; you had to help yourself. So . . . they gave you a phony gun you thought was real. I gave them a phony cop who they thought was real. I never said that Dan was a policeman; he doesn't have a badge or a gun with him." "How'd you know where to have Dan wait?" "Luck, I guess-or good investigation. There are only two motels close to Doan's. I called the desk clerk and asked for two men with the description you gave." Jared bent down to look at the pile of guns at his feet. "I'm sorry we didn't get your money back, Tom. But on the other hand, I don't suppose Mister Horace Livingston will be coming back to pick them up-that pair's probably halfway to Bristol already. At least now you really do have a unique collection to start a hobby.