"You threw a book," I said. "That's enough to win you a pardon as far
as I'm concerned. You sit tight and don't let on that I know anything.
Nobody else knows anything at all. Not even Brentwood. So keep quiet."
She dried her face quickly and stood up, too. "All right. Whatever you
say."
As we went back out into the lounge, I felt a little pleased with
myself. If things worked out right--and they would--we now had a double
agent inside Thurston's organization. It wouldn't take too long to
clear things up, and Miss Devereaux could go back to Earth with a nice
piece of change in her pocket.
"What are you looking so happy about?" Videnski asked suspiciously when
he saw us.
"I'll show you," I said. "Where's the tool kit?"
* * * * *
Ten minutes later, I had the wall speaker in the lounge out of its
housing, but still connected. McGuire hadn't interfered with the work,
as he might have if someone else had tried to do it, because he could
see perfectly well that it was Daniel Oak who was doing the job, even
though Oak hadn't been speaking to him much lately.