When the door was opened to him by a middle-aged man, the visitor said, “I’m here to see him.” “Come this way.” He followed the middle-aged man down a long hall to an office, where he entered and sat in front of a desk. “What do you have for me?” the man behind the desk asked. “Confirmation, I suppose,” the man in black said. “It seems to be Clint Adams.” “So what’s he doin’ here?” “From what I hear, him and Canby are friends.” “That’s it?” The man in black shrugged. “Keep lookin’,” the man behind the desk said. “I want to know more.” The man in black shrugged and said, “As long as you pay the freight.” The man behind the desk opened a drawer, took out an envelope filled with cash, and tossed it over to the man in black.
