Part 2

Still nothing for me to get excited about. Not until I saw the letter that had been lying under the paper. It was addressed to both Donovan and me--the names and destination printed in lead pencil. There was no return address. I tore it open. A white card fell out. On the card was printed two words--nothing else. The words read:

--OR BOSTON.

* * * * *

So that's where we sit now. Almost seven years ago that stickup occurred. For seven years Donovan and I had waited for the law to crack it so we could quit wondering; so we could tell ourselves that Dalrymple was just another screwball.

But the statute of limitations nearly ran out on the great Brinks robbery and now we're beginning to wonder if it really was solved. Wondering if we could have stopped it by stopping Dalrymple, the brain behind it all.

Wondering if he really was a man from another--oh hell! It just couldn't be!

Or could it?