If you
find only three, then you'll know that Anton Varcek's still out, so leave
it open for him. That's the way we do here; last one in locks up."
CHAPTER 9
Rand found another car, a smoke-gray Plymouth coupe, standing on the
left of his Lincoln when he went down to the garage. Running his car
outside and down to the highway, he settled down to his regular style of
driving--a barely legal fifty m.p.h., punctuated by bursts of absolutely
felonious speed whenever he found an unobstructed straightaway. Entering
Rosemont, he slowed and went through the underpass at the railroad
tracks, speeding again when he was clear of the village. A few minutes
later, he was turning into the crushed-limestone drive that led up to the
buff-brick Gresham house.
A girl met him at the door, a cute little redhead in a red-striped dress,
who gave him a smile that seemed to start on the bridge of her nose and
lift her whole face up after it. She held out her hand to him.
"Colonel Rand!" she exclaimed. "I'll bet you don't remember me."
"Sure I do. You're Dot," Rand said. "At least, I think you are; the last
time I saw you, you were in pigtails. And you were only about so high."
He measured with his hand. "The last time I was here, you were away at
school.
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