The billfold came out slowly. Bending took it. The identification card
and the small gold badge said very plainly that the man was a Special
Agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
"I ... I'm sorry," Bending said weakly. "I thought you were someone else.
Some men were following me this afternoon, and--"
"That was us, Mr. Bending. Sorry."
"May I verify this?" Bending asked.
"Certainly. Go right ahead."
Bending phoned the local office of the FBI and verified the identities
of the two men. When he cut off, he asked dazedly: "What was it you
wanted?"
"Would you mind coming with us--downtown? We'd like to have you see some
people."
"Am I under arrest?"
"No." The agent smiled a little. "I suppose, if we had to, we could get
you for speeding and reckless driving; that was pretty fancy dodging you
did. But we're not supposed to be traffic cops."