"Yeah." Tito grinned. "Plenty of wild idiots down there among the crazy Communists."
"Anyway, they were scouting their information to find out if there was anything to it. They put a man on Harry Owens, and they sent a man out here. The guy on Owens either killed or captured him, took his papers and suitcases, changed the picture on the passport, and came to us as Owens. The other guy came to you as a reporter from Scope. But your guy didn't get through to his headquarters, did he, John?"
"Definitely not."
"And neither did our guy, for reasons already stated." Raymond sighed. "I'm not saying I'm happy about the situation but I am saying we've been lucky, and we've got time to clear out. Now, John..."
"Yessir?"
"With Craig out of action, who's going to handle the lions in the cage while we fill up the false bottoms of the feeding troughs in the wagon?"
"His daughter."
"Daughter!"
"A youngster, but she can handle the animals almost as well as her father."
"Where is she?"
Parley smiled. "Resting. Taking a nap. I told her she was going to handle the lions this evening. I told her I had given her father the evening off to go out with his new friend Evan Fairchild." Parley laughed. "He sure is out with his friend Evan Fairchild."
"I repeat, where is she?"
"In a nearby cabin. Brian Powell's."
"Who's Powell?"
"My right hand, my first assistant—and also the public relations man for the circus. As a matter of fact, he's out there now, in charge of the dismantling and packing. But they've started way off on the other side—far away from the lions' wagon."
"Does your Mr. Powell know anything about this?"
"Nothing."
"What reason did you give him for this sudden moving of the circus?"
"Orders from the home office."
"Good work, John."
"Thank you."
"And now, if you please...."
"Sir?"
"Get her!"
John Parley gently shook Candy until she came awake.
"Oh? Already?" She sat up and looked at her watch.
"No," Parley said. "Another thing. A nuisance, but necessary."
She stood up, stretched, yawned. "Be happy to do whatever I can."
"A sudden visit from health inspectors. Now they want to see the lions' wagon, their food, their feeding troughs. Somebody's got to take the lions out of the wagon and into the outdoor cage while the inspectors poke around in the wagon. I wish your father were here. I hate to trouble you with this."
"No trouble at all, Mr. Parley."
Parley accompanied Candy to the cage, while Raymond, Langston, and Tito brought the truck up to the rear of the yellow wagon.
Candy entered the cage and snapped the lion door shut. Then she unbolted the swing door and called the lions out. She talked to them, petted them, ordered them to stay down. The lions sprawled out. Recently fed, they were sleepy. They lay quietly, blinking, two of them already asleep.
"The swing door bolted, Candy?"
"Shut tight, Mr. Parley. Your inspectors are perfectly safe."
Parley went around to the rear and motioned to Tito in the driver's seat. Tito jumped out and opened the doors of the truck for Raymond and Langston. Parley unbolted the rear doors of the huge yellow wagon, and then the four of them, working rapidly, transferred the ingots into the wagon.
Within the hot, stuffy, smelly wagon, they packed the ingots into the false bottoms of the feeding troughs, then quickly restored everything to order.
"Finished," said Tito, mopping his face with a handkerchief.
They came out into the relief of the open air.
"Okay, John," Raymond said after Parley had securely bolted the doors of the wagon, "have the girl put the lions back." His laughter boomed. "They guard our gold, and who could ask for better guards?"
"Not yet," said Parley.
"Now what?" A frown put a crease between Raymond's eyes.
"I want to talk to Brian Powell."
"What for?"
"To tell him where I'll be."
"Where's that?"
"With you—and also our sleeping company—at Craig's apartment. Also, I want to arrange a special van for us. Leave it to me."
"Okay. But quick."
"It'll be quick." Parley pointed to a motor scooter leaning against the side of the wagon. "In the meantime, Mr. Raymond, I'd like you and Mr. Langston back in the truck and Tito back up there in the driver's seat. And leave the truck doors open."
Raymond squinted, then nodded.
"All right. Now get a move on, mister."
Parley chugged away on the motor scooter, all the way across to the other end of the grounds. There he found Brian Powell.
"How're we doing, Brian?"
"Shipshape, Mr. Parley."
"Good man. I'll be at Kenneth Craig's apartment. When the vans are packed and ready for the airport, call me there."
"Right, Mr. Parley."
"And keep a special van open for me, Craig, and Candy––and their bags and stuff. The reporter, too. He might want to see us off."
"Right, Mr. Parley. You'll have a van all to yourself."
"Thank you, boy."
"Not at all, sir."
"See you later."
"Right."
Parley climbed onto the motor scooter and chugged away.
"Candy!" called Parley through the iron bars of the cage. She was sitting cross-legged among the lions. She smiled at Parley and stood up.
"Are the inspectors done inspecting, Mr. Parley?"
"All finished, dear. You may get the animals back in now."
Candy laughed. "Look at them. All sound asleep, so peaceful and happy out here. It's a pity to have to wake them."
"But we have to, dear."
"Yes, we do."
Candy roused the lions and quietly coaxed them, one by one, through the swing door and into the wagon. While she was busy Parley removed his dart pistol from its holster and held it down along his thigh.
After the last of the lions was in, Candy bolted the swing door, came out of the cage, and latched that door.
"There!" she said. "All done."
"Would you like to meet the inspectors?"
She laughed. "Would they like to meet me?"
"They certainly would—a seventeen-year-old who can handle lions like you can."
"I'd be pleased, Mr. Parley."
"This way."
He led her around to the rear, and beside the truck, without further ceremony, discharged a dart at her and caught her as she fell unconscious.
Raymond helped drag her in.
"I see what you mean, John."
"Impossible to let her wander around alone."
"Yes," agreed Raymond. "How long do they stay unconscious like this?"
"Unless revived, twelve hours."
Raymond lit a cigar. "All right. Now what's the schedule?"
"We go back to Craig's apartment. We wait there till I get a call from Powell. That'll mean the circus is packed up and the vans are ready for the short trip to the airport. We'll have a special van for ourselves. At the airport our big planes are all ready and waiting. A lot of the work here on the grounds is already done. My estimate is that within an hour we'll be en route out of the country."
"Good! You're a good man, John. I'll see to it that you get a fine bonus for this day's work."
"Thank you, Mr. Raymond."
Parley leaped from the truck, shut the doors, and clambered up alongside Tito.