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en by a Navy chief boatswain's mate. A tall, erect General Staff Corps colonel approached him first and asked if he was Captain Whittaker. When Whittaker nodded, he announced that he was from the Office of the Chief of Staff and that he had been sent to take possession of the letter Whittaker was carrying. "Excuse me, Colonel," another voice-oddly familiar, Whittaker thought-broke in, "but I have been sent to welcome Captain it take r home, and to take charge of him and the letter."

"I'll be a sonofabitch," Whittaker said, really surprised." Canidy!

Richard Canidy had been James M. B. Whittaker's best friend since they had been adolescents at St. Mark's School. Until this moment, Whittaker had believed that Canidy was in China as a Flying Tiger.

Which meant that Canidy, if he wasn't dead, was in the deep shit there at least as much as he himself had been in the Philippines. "May I ask who you are?" the colonel asked, "I'm a deputy United States marshal, Colonel," Canidy said. He took a small wallet from his pocket and extended it, open, for the colonel's examination. "What the hell is all that?"

Whittaker asked.

"Just shut up and get in the Buick, Jimmy," Canidy said. "I'll explain later."

"I can't imagine how the Department of Justice has become involved in this," the colonel said.

"But I'll tell you this, Mr.- What did you say your name was?"

"Canidy," Canidy furnished. 4j)ll tell you this, Mr. Canidy," the colonel went on. "Perhaps you didn't understand me. I am from the Office of the Chief of Staff, and I have every intention of assuming responsibility for this officer and any material he may have in his possession."

"Colonel," Canidy said, "the justice Department has just assumed responsibility for this officer. If you have any questions, may I suggest you refer them to the Attorney General?"

"This officer's not important," the colonel said.

"You can have him if you like, But I must have the letter he has in his possession."

"Colonel," Whittaker said matter-of-factly, "General MacArthur told me to deliver the letter in person."

"And I'm telling you, Captain, that I am here to take it from you.

That's an order." The muscular, stocky Navy chief petty officer who was driving the Buick walked up. "Chief, would you put Captain Whittaker in the car, please?" Canidy said. "Yes, Sir," Ellis said.

"If you'll come with me, please?"

"Now, just a minute!" the colonel fumed.

"I will have that letter! "I'm sorry about the mix-up, Colonel," Canidy said.

"But I have my orders. I'm sure you'll understand." He walked quickly after Whittaker and Captain Ellis. The colonel made one last attempt.

"I order you, Captain," he called after them, "to give me that letter."

"Sorry," Whittaker said over his shoulder. The confrontation and the colonel's frustration seemed to amuse him.

"I don't know who you are, Colonel, but Marshal Wyatt Earp and I are old friends. I think I'd better go with him." He opened the rear door of the Buick and got in. There was a man sitting against the far door, wearing a blue overcoat. "Welcome home, Captain Whittaker," he said.

"My name is Doug lass."

"What about your luggage, Captain?" Chief Ellis asked. "Luggage?"

Whittaker parroted incredulously.

"Luggage?" Chief Ellis grinned, closed the door, and quickly got behind the wheel. Canidy trotted in front of the Buick and slipped beside Ellis.

"Get out of here, Chief," he said, "before that colonel has a chance to think of something to do." After they were moving, Whittaker asked, "What the hell was that U.S. marshal business all about? What are you doing here, anyway? The last I heard, you were in China, flying P-40s for the Flying Tigers."

"That was fun for a while," Cariidy said.

"But then they started shooting at me, so I came home."

"And became a U.S. marshal?" Whittaker asked.