Three to Conquer Read Free Page A

had been alerted over a huge area by an eight-state alarm.
     
                  It wouldn't do much good. There was no adequate description of the fugitives and none at all of their car. "A tall, blond fellow" just wasn't enough to go upon.
     
                  He let a few miles go by until he saw a service-station on the opposite side—the side that, in Harper's theory, Alderson and the killers had used. He crossed and pulled up near the pumps; two attendants came over.
     
                  "Were you fellows on duty around four o'clock?"
     
                  Both nodded.
     
                  "See anything of a prowl car driven by a trooper named Alderson? Car Seventeen, it was."
     
                  "I know Bob Alderson," said one. "He was around a couple of times this morning."
     
                  "Not between three and four?"
     
                  "No." He thought a bit. "Or if he was, I didn't see him."
     
                  "Me neither," said the other.
     
                  Their minds told that they spoke truth; Harper knew it with absolute sureness. So far as he was concerned, they need not have opened their mouths.
     
                  "Anyone else here who might have noticed him around that time?"
     
                  "Only Satterthwaite. Want me to ask him?''
     
                  "I'd appreciate it."
     
                  The attendant went out of sight around the back of the building. It made no difference. Harper could hear them mentally, though their voices were out of reach.
     
                  "Hey, Satty, a fellow here wants to know if you saw anything of Bob Alderson two or three hours back."
     
                  "Nary a sign."
     
                  He came back. "No luck, Satty didn't see him."
     
                  "Anyone now off-duty who was here at that time?"
     
                  "No, mister." He showed curiosity. "Like me to tell Bob you're looking for him, if he happens along?"
     
                  "He won't be along—ever," said Harper.
     
                  "What d'you mean?"
     
                  "Some hoodlum shot him down around four. He's dead."
     
                  "Lord !" said the attendant, going pale.
     
                  "You'll have the police here asking similar questions, sooner or later." Harper gazed up the road. "Know of any place on his patrol where Alderso n was in the habit of stopping?"
     
                  "He'd often grab a coffe e at the Star Café."
     
                  "Where's that?"
     
                  "Four miles along, on the crossroads."
     
                  "Thanks."
     
                  He pulled out, drove fast. Two miles farther on, he came to another filling station, this time on his own side of the road. Turning in, he put the same questions.
     
                  "Sure I saw him," said a laconic, sandy-haired youth. "Didn't notice the time but it must have been about three hours back."
     
                  "Was he chasing somebody?"
     
                  The other considered this and said, "Yes, now that I come to think of it, maybe he was. "
     
                  " What happened?"
     
                  "One of those low-slung green Thunderbugs went past in a hell of a hurry, and Bob came half a mile behind—like he'd no time to waste, either."
     
                  "But you aren't positive that he was pursuing the Thunder-bug?"
     
                  "I didn't think so at the time. Most of the stuff on this road moves good and fast—but now that you mention it, I guess he may have been after that car."
     
                  "Did you notice who was in