"My God," said Marshall.
"Well, well, well, well, well," said Stevenson.
"Yes," said Professor Long. He nodded, and turned away from the window
to look at the door. "You may come in now, Eddie," he called.
The door opened, and Eddie Clayhorn stood there, in civilian clothes.
He beamed at the window. "That was tricky," he said.
"So," said Professor Long. "I was mistaken, eh? Exposure does not spoil
things, is that it?"
"Sometimes," said Eddie Clayhorn, "the hero has one or two trusted
friends on the police force who know who he is and give him tips about
criminals. But they never tell anybody."
"Of course!" said Professor Long. "And we are _your_ trusted friends.
Yes?"
"Sure. But you can't tell my parents or anybody."
Roberts leaned forward and gingerly touched the frosted window. It was
cold, very cold. He turned and looked with awed eyes at Eddie Clayhorn.
Slowly, he smiled. "Scorp old boy," he said, "you can just call me
Tonto. Kimosabe!"