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known each other well during earlier years in California. The first

letter was on a distinguished letterhead.

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It began: My dear Walter.

The writer expressed his interest, as a legal scholar, in a burgeoning

new field of law enforcement, namely, that related to the stealing of

electricity and gas. He asked for more details of the types of offenses

involved and methods being used to combat them. Also requested were any

known facts about prosecutions, and their outcomes, in various parts of

the country. The letter inquired after the health of Ardytbe and was

signed "Paul."

Walter Talbot, with a sense of decorum, had replied more formally: My

dear justice Yale.

His letter was four pages long. Accompanying it was a photocopy of one

of Walter's published articles.

Several weeks later Paul Yale wrote again. He acknowledged the letter and

article and posed several pertinent questions which demonstrated he had

read the material carefully.

The correspondence continued through five more letters, spaced over eight

months. In one of them Walter Talbot described the function of the

Property Protection Department in a typical public utility, and the

duties of an individual heading it-such as Harry London.

Not surprisingly, the letters pointed up the sharp, inquiring mind, the

lively interest in everything, of Paul Sherman Yale.

And the entire correspondence bad taken place only two years before Mr.

justice Yale's retirement from the bench.

Could Paul Yale possibly have forgotten? Nim had already asked himself

that question and decided the answer was an emphatic "no". Tbe old man

had demonstrated, too many times, his remarkable memory-both for large

issues and for detail-to make that believable.

It was Harry London who raised the key issue Nim had been debating. "Why

did the old boy do it? Why did he lie to us the way he did?"

"Probably," Nim said thoughtfully, "because he knew Walter was dead, and

because the chance of any of the three of us-the chairman, you,

me-knowing about that correspondence was remote. In fact, it must have

been obvious that we didn't. Also, the odds on those letters ever

surfacing were a million to one against."

London nodded his agreement, then said, "The next question, I reckon, is:

How many other times has the Honorable Paul done the same thing and

gotten away with it?"

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"We'll never know, will we?"

The Property Protection chief motioned to the letters. "Of course, you'll

show these to the chairman."

"Yes, this afternoon. I happen to know Mr. Yale is coming in later today."

"Which brings up something else." Harry London's voice was bitter. "Will we

go on trying as hard as we have to keep that precious Yale name out of

those court proceedings which are coming up? Or, in view of this new

information, will 'Mr. Integrity' take his chances like any body else?"

"I don't know." Nim sighed. "I simply don't know. And, in any case, it

won't be my decision."

The showdown with Mr. justice Yale occurred shortly after 4 P-m- in the

chairman's office suite.

When Nim arrived, having been summoned by J. Eric Humphrey's secretary, it

was obvious that tension already existed. The chairman's expression could

best be described, Nim thought, as "wounded old Bostonian." Humphrey's eyes

were cold, his mouth tightly set. Paul Yale, while unaware of precisely

what was afoot, clearly shared the knowledge that it was something

disagreeable and his normal cheerfulness had been replaced by a frown. The

two were seated at a table in the conference area and neither man was

speaking when Nim joined them.

Nim took the chair on Eric Humphrey's left, facing Mr. justice Yale. He

placed on the table before him the file containing the Talbot-Yale

correspondence.

Earlier, Eric Humphrey and Nim, after some debate, had agreed on the

sequence of procedure. They also decided that Harry London need not, this

time, be included.

"Paul," Humphrey began, "on the previous occasion when the three of us were

together, we bad a discussion about certain problems of power stealing. In

part, they involved the Yale Family Trust. I'm sure that you remember."

Mr. justice Yale nodded. "Yes, of course."

"At that time you made a number of statements. All were to the effect that

you had no idea, prior to that moment, that such a thing as power theft

existed."

"Now stop this!" Paul Yale's face flushed angrily. "I do not like your tone

or attitude, Eric. Nor am I here to be questioned about what I mav, or may

not, have said .

Humphrey's voice cut acidly across the protest. "There is no 'may' about

it. What you told us was precise and unambiguous. Moreover, it was repeated

several times. I remember it that way. So does Nim."

It was plain to Nim that Paul Yale's mind was working at high

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speed. The old man said sternly, "Whatever was said, it does not follow

from it . . ."

"Nim," the chairman ordered, "show Mr. Yale the contents of our file."

Opening the folder, Nim slid the small pile of letters and attachments

across the table. The earliest dated letter-on Supreme Court

stationery-was on top.

Paul Yale picked it up, glanced at it, then dropped it hastily. He did

not bother with the others. His face, which had been flushed before,

suffused an even deeper red.

Afterward, replaying the scene in his mind, Nim guessed that while Yale

expected some kind of unfavorable revelation, the possibility of being

confronted with his old correspondence had not occurred to him. If Nim's

conjecture was true, it would explain the old man's abject, total shock.

His tongue moistened his lips. He seemed unable to find the words he

wanted.

Then be said awkwardly, defensively, "Sometimes, especially in Washington

. . . with so much happening, so many papers, the unending correspondence

. . . one forgets . . ." The statement trailed off. Obviously it sounded

as false and unconvincing to Mr. justice Yale as it did to the other two.

11 Strike that," he said abruptly, and stood up. Pushing back his chair,

he walked away from the table and, without looking at Nim or Humphrey,

asked, "Please give me a moment to collect my thoughts."

Briefly the old man paced the chairman's broadloom. Then he turned,

though continuing to stand.

"It is plain, gentlemen, as only documentary evidence can make it, that

I have been guilty of deception and-no doubt deservedly-been caught."

Paul Yale's voice was lower than normal-, his face reflected pain as he

continued. "I will not compound my error by explanations or excuses,

either by describing my considerable anxiety at the time of our earlier

talk, or my urgent and natural desire to protect my good name."

just the same, Nim thought, you've managed to do both while sayin- that

you wouldn't.

I will, however," Yale went on, "swear to you that I neither participated

in power theft by the Yale Family Trust, nor bad any knowledge of it

prior to our first discussion here."

Eric Humphrey, who, Nim remembered, had been eager to accept Paul Yale's

word before, remained silent. Probably the chairman was thinking, as was

Nim, that anyone who would lie once to protect his reputation would lie

again for the same reason.

Inevitably, Nim was reminded of Harry London's question: "How many other

times has the Honorable Paul done the same thing and gotten away with

it?"

As the silence hung, the pain in the old man's eyes deepened.

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"Nim," Eric Humphrey said quietly, "I don't believe it's necessary for vou

to stav any longer."

With reliei, Nim gathered up the papers on the table and returned them to

the file while the other two watched. Taking the file with him, and with no

further word spoken, Nim left.

He did not know it then, but it was the last time he would ever meet Mr.

justice Yale.

Nim never learned what else transpired in the chairman's office that dav.

He didn't ask, nor did Eric Humphrey volunteer the information. But the end

result was revealed the next morning.

At 11 A.m. Humphrey sent for Nim and Teresa Van Buren. Seated at his desk,

and holding a letter, he informed them, "I have received the resignation of

justice Paul Sherman Yale as our public spokesman and a director of this

company. The resignation has been accepted with regret. I would like an

announcement made immediately to that effect."

Van Buren told him, "We should state some reason, Eric."

"III health." Humphrey referred to the letter in his band. "Mr. Yale's

doctors have advised him that, at his age, the strain of his new duties at

GSP & L has proven too -arduous. They have advised him to discontinue

them."

"No problem," the p.r. director said. "I'll have it on the wires this af-

ternoon. I have another question, though."

"Yes?"

"That leaves us without a spokesman for the company. Who takes over?"

For the first time the chairman smiled. "I'm too busy to search for someone

else, Tess, so I suppose there's no alternative. Put the saddle back on

Nim."

"Hallelujah!" Van Buren said. "You know the way I feel. It should never

have been taken off."

Outside the chairman's office Teresa Van Buren lowered her voice, "Nim,

give me the straight dope behind this Yale thing. What went wrong? You know

I'll find out sooner or later."

Nim shook his bead. "You heard the chairman, Tess. Failing health."

"You bastard!" she shot at him. "For that, I may not put you on TV until

next week."

Harry London read the published report of Paul Yale's departure and came to

Nim the next dav.

"If I bad any guts," he declared, "I'd resign in disgust at that fiction

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about ill health and acceptance with regret. It makes all of us liars, just

the way he is."

Nim, who had not slept well, said irritably, "So go ahead-resign."

"I can't afford to."

"Then knock off the holier-than-thou crap, Harry. You said yourself there's

no way we could prove Mr. Yale was into power theft personally."

London said dourly, "He was, though. Tbe more I think about it, the more I

believe it."

"Don't forget," Nim pointed out, "that Ian Norris, who ran the Yale Family

Trust, swore he wasn't."

"Yes, and the whole thing smells like a deal. Norris will get his payoff in

some way later-maybe by staying on as trustee. Besides, Norris wouldn't

have gained anything himself by involving the great man."

"Whatever we think, or don't," Nim said. "it's over and finished. So get

back to work and catch more power thieves."

"I already have. There's a bunch of new cases, as well as others developing

from the Quayle inquiry. But Nim, I'll tell you one thing for the future."

Nim sighed. "Go ahead."

"We've been part of a cover-up, you and me; a cover-up to protect that