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 “Humph! Looks to me like you were more afraid of your own hide than mine.”

"What if I didn't want to get bumped off?" de­manded the girl, a trace of her usual defiant as­surance returning. "Nobody wants to croak at my age. But I was worried about you, too, Tony," she continued hurriedly as she saw the storm clouds gathering in his face. “Haven't I tried for days to make you fix a bodyguard for yourself?”

Tony considered, realizing the truth of that. She had pleaded with him for the past two weeks to arrange a competent bodyguard for himself. But he had hesitated, feeling that to move around constantly surrounded by a squad of gunmen was a reflection upon his own courage and marksman­ship. Yet he could not rid himself entirely of the idea that she had been treacherous to him. And his ruthless direct mind could find only penalty for treachery—Death.

“I love you, Tony,” she went on while his pierc­ing glance surveyed her. "And I've been doing everything I could to protect you."

"Yeah? Well, I have my doubts. But I'll give you a chance to prove it. If you love me, get Schemer Bruno for me."

Her eyes widened slowly as she realized the