Part 2

It was. Seven minutes later, a man wearing the uniform of a Museum guard scuttled into the room as though he were being followed by a fleet of hornets. He stopped near the door, glanced rapidly over all the diners, located Dr. Mier, and made his way hurriedly toward the table.

"Dr. Mier! Dr. Mier!" His rasping voice was about as secretive as a stage whisper. The other diners swiveled their heads to look.

Mier, startled, glanced up at the messenger.

"Yes, Mooler? Speak up, man; what is it?"

The uniformed man put a single sheet of paper on the table. "This just came over the teletype wire from our correspondent in Sudapfahl, sir! Read it!"

Dr. Mier read, and, as he did so, his eyes widened. "Good Heavens!" he said at last, "This is terrible!"

"What?" asked Leland Hale, in all innocence.

"This!" Mier shoved the teletype sheet across the table.

GRUNFELT, SUDAPFAHL: THE EXCELLENT HINRIK FONSHLIEZEN, PORTFOLIO OF STATE, ANNOUNCED TODAY THE DISCOVERY OF A TIME CAPSULE SIMILAR TO THAT IN THE MUSEUM OF GROSSTAT, NORDAPFAHL. THE CAPSULE, SET FOR A DATE APPROXIMATELY ONE DAY LATER THAN THAT OF THE NORTHERN CAPSULE, IS SAID TO BE BURIED BENEATH THE CAPITOL BUILDING, ACCORDING TO OFFICIAL RECORDS DISCLOSED TO THE PUBLIC THIS MORNING. EXCAVATIONS WILL BEGIN IMMEDIATELY, ACCORDING TO HIS EXCELLENCY'S STATEMENT, IT IS EXPECTED THAT THE CAPSULE MAY CONTAIN SOME EXAMPLES OF THE WORK OF R. PHILIPP DACHBODEN.

Leland Hale read it carefully and shook his head. "Dear me," he said mildly.

"It may mean nothing to you, an outsider," said Dr. Mier bitterly, "but do you realize that to us this is a matter of national honor and prestige?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. Naturally. Believe me, Dr. Mier, I certainly appreciate your position." He spread his hands slightly. "But, of course, you realize that, as a representative of the Interstellar Museum, I will have to check on the Sudapfahlian claim." Before Mier could voice any objections, Leland Hale silenced him with a wave of his hand. "You have nothing to worry about, Dr. Mier; as you know, the Interstellar Museum only allows one branch to a planet. Naturally, your museum would certainly have priority over that of Sudapfahl."

"Sudapfahl doesn't even have a museum," Mier said, looking fatly superior.

"Besides," Hale continued mollifyingly, "I shan't go there until after I have seen what your own time capsule has to offer. It seems to me that the Sudapfahlian government actually doesn't know what's inside their capsule. Their statements seem to be made out of pure jealousy."

"You're probably quite right, Dr. Dale," said Mier.

"Oh, I know I'm right," said Leland Hale truthfully.

* * * * *

After lunch, Dr. Allen H. Dale informed Dr. Mier that, as he was a bit fatigued from his trip, he would like to rest for a few hours. Mier agreed whole-heartedly, and the two men made an appointment to meet later in the afternoon for a tour of the Grosstat Museum of Cultural History, and perhaps dinner and a few drinks afterwards.

After seeing his guest into his room, Dr. Mier strolled out of the hotel, stepped into his car, and ordered the driver to take him to the Museum. There were big things to be done. This new threat from the south was not to be taken too lightly.

At the Museum--a huge, cold-looking, blocky granite structure--Mier climbed out of his car, toiled up the broad stairs to the entrance, and strolled rollingly in. On every side, flunkies, both in uniform and out, bowed and scraped as the Great Man passed by. Dr. Mier reached his book-lined office just as the telephone rang.

He picked up the instrument, a mechanism of ancient design possessing no vision equipment, and announced that he was Dr. Rudolf Mier.

"This is Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon, State Police. You have just returned from lunch with a Dr. Allen H. Dale, purporting to be from the Galactic Museum?"

"Why, yes; I just--What do you mean, _purporting_?"

"We have reason to believe, Doctor, that this man is wanted by the Interstellar Police. We have received a communication from I.P. headquarters warning us that Dr. Allen H. Dale is actually a man named Leland Hale."

"Who is Leland Hale?"

"A criminal, Doctor. He is wanted so badly that the I.P. is actually sending a contingent of men here to apprehend him," said the lieutenant-marshal.

"A criminal, yes--but what kind of a criminal?"

"I gather," said the lieutenant-marshal drily, "that he steals things. I imagine he's after the Dachboden original."

"That's ridiculous! He couldn't possibly get into the Museum! It's surrounded by--" His voice choked off as he realized that he, himself, had already extended an invitation to "Dr. Dale" to come to the Museum. "But--but--I spoke to Dr. Dale for over an hour! He can't be a thief."

"Possibly not," agreed Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon. "The Interstellar Police aren't always right, and I must say I don't care for their high-handed manner at times. Nevertheless, we'll have to take proper precautions. I'll see that the guard around the Museum is reinforced, and send out a pickup order on Dr. Dale. If there's been any mistake made, it will be the fault of the I.P. Meanwhile, I would appreciate it Doctor, if you would come to my office. We've got to make better arrangements for the protection of the time capsule."

* * * * *

And thus the call went out for Dr. Allen H. Dale.

He wasn't found, of course. By the time the police got to the hotel, he had "mysteriously" vanished. By the simple expedient of shaving off his beard and removing the gray from his hair had changed his appearance enough so that a mere change of clothing was all that was needed to completely dispose of Dr. Allen H. Dale. Leland Hale was never one to be caught napping; he was never one to be caught at all.

Naturally, a planet-wide alarm went out. Even Sudapfahl, warned that the "arch-criminal" might attempt to steal the contents of their own time capsule, sent out word to all local police forces to be on the alert.

Two days later, a fast, fully-armed Interstellar Police cruiser settled to the landing pit of the spaceport in Grosstat, Nordapfahl, and disgorged a squad of eighty I.P. troopers under the command of Captain Bradney W. Whitter, a tough, shrewd law officer with twenty years of experience behind him.

Whitter had been up against Leland Hale before; he still carried a white, puckered scar on one leg, a reminder of Leland Hale's ability to use a megadyne handgun. If Leland Hale was actually on Apfahl, Captain Whitter intended to get him.

* * * * *

In the office of Dr. Mier, the captain called a conference. Present were himself, Dr. Mier, Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon, and several others, high officers of the I.P., the museum staff, and the Nordapfahlian State Police.

"Gentlemen," Captain Whitter said determinedly, "we are going to get Leland Hale this time. We've got him."

Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon lifted a heavy eyebrow. "I'm afraid I don't quite see how, Captain." He made an all-inclusive gesture toward the window. "He has a whole planet to hide from us in. A great part of it is still wilderness, jungle, desert, and arid mountains."

The captain's granite face turned toward Dilon. "My dear Marshal, it is obvious that you don't know Leland Hale. He is not the type of man to hide out in the hills forever. I doubt that he even took off for the hinterlands; I wouldn't be surprised if he were right here in Grosstat."

The marshal shrugged heavy shoulders. "I'll admit it's possible. This is a city of three-quarters of a million people. He might be difficult to find."

"The galaxy is a damned sight bigger than that," Whitter pointed out. "Hale could have hidden out long ago if that were the way he operated. But he doesn't. He hits and runs and then comes back to hit again. A louse he may be, but I never underestimate an opponent; he's smart and he's got guts. And he's got pride. And that's what will catch him."

"I'm afraid I don't understand you," said Dr. Mier.

Whitter glanced down at the director. "Your time capsule seems to have aroused quite a bit of interest in certain parts of the galaxy, Dr. Mier. That Dachboden carving, especially, has made news on the older worlds--even on Earth, I understand. And now that it is known that Leland Hale has practically announced that he wants that Dachboden, the news services will be watching to see if he gets it." He grinned sourly. "And believe me, Leland Hale won't turn down a challenge like that."

Marshal Dilon looked more than mildly skeptical. "Do you mean that you think he will attempt it in spite of the precautions we have taken?"

"I do." He looked at the quiet group around him. "We'll have to lay a trap--one that will get Leland Hale when he tries to steal that statue. And he'll try, believe me. I know Leland Hale."

The captain was right, as far as he went. Pity he didn't know Leland Hale a little better.

* * * * *

Leland Hale, smooth-shaven and black-haired, leaned back in a comfortable chair and blew a large smoke ring into the air. He watched it swirl in on itself and slowly dissolve into nothingness.

"Your Excellency," he said, "I must admit that your southern tobacco has more flavor than the milder northern type. This is an excellent cigar."

Hinrik Fonshliezen glared down his long, pointed nose at the big man in the overstuffed chair. "I'm glad you enjoy them, Mr. Hale," he said bitterly. "You may not get them in prison."

Hale glanced up mildly. "Prison? Oh, but I never go to prisons--at least, not for long. I'm allergic to them. They give me a pain--here." He patted his hip pocket.

"If I don't get that statue in time for the opening of our time capsule," said the State Portfolio coldly, "I will at least collect the not inconsiderable reward for your capture."

Leland Hale stood up leisurely and stepped toward the other man. He pointed a finger at Hinrik's face, stopping with the fingertip a scant eighth of an inch from the other's nose.

"Now, listen," he said softly, "I don't care for threats of that kind. Not that they bother me; they don't. But they make me suspicious of my confederates, and that makes me uncomfortable, and I don't like to be uncomfortable. Is that clear?"

Hinrik Fonshliezen backed up a step to remove his nose from the vicinity of the finger. "Don't try to bully me, Hale," he said. But there was a slight waver in his voice.

"Fair enough. I don't bully you, you don't bully me.

"And don't call me your confederate," added Fonshliezen, somewhat encouraged by Hale's manner.

"I'm damned if I'll call you a comrade-in-arms," said Hale. "Would 'assistant' suit you better?"

Fonshliezen reddened. "One of these days you'll push me too far, Hale!"

"When I do, you'll fall," said Hale, in a voice like chilled steel. "You and I have made a deal. I get that Dachboden for you, and you pay me half a million stellors. That's all there is to it."

The Portfolio of State was not a man to be pushed around easily, but he also had sense enough to know when he was up against a stronger opponent than himself.

Shortly after the original announcement about the time capsule had come from Grosstat, Leland Hale had come to Fonshliezen to offer his services. If Hale stole the Dachboden original, and gave it to Hinrik Fonshliezen, then Sudapfahl could steal the glory from its northern neighbor by claiming that a second capsule had been found. When the northern capsule was discovered to have no statue in it, the pride of Nordapfahl would suffer a serious blow.

But now Fonshliezen was worried.

"But how can you get it now?" he asked. "The planet is full of Interstellar Police agents; the time capsule is tightly guarded. If only the secret of Dr. Dale's identity hadn't leaked out!"

Hale chuckled and settled himself back into the chair.

"Hinrik, old toad, do you know how the I.P. learned about the bogus Dr. Dale?"

The Portfolio had stepped over to a highboy to mix himself a stiff drink. "No," he said, glancing at Hale. "Do you?"

"I do. They got an anonymous message. Of course, they traced it; they know that it was actually sent by an acquaintance of mine on Vandemar, a chap who might have good reason to inform on me."

"How do you know all this?"

Hale blew another smoke ring. "Because I had him send it."

"_What? Why?_"

Hale shook his head slowly. "You just aren't very bright, Hinrik. Not bright at all. See here; what would have happened if my name had never come into this at all?"

"I should think--"

"I agree. You should. But you don't." Hale dropped the remains of the cigar in an ashtray. "Just suppose that no one knew I was here on Apfahl. On the day the time capsule is due to open, the Nordapfahlians find no original Dachboden in it. The next day, you open a capsule that no one has ever heard of before, and you find a Dachboden. Wouldn't that look rather suspicious? It certainly would."

Fonshliezen considered that point, then asked: "And how do you propose to do it?"

"It's all set up, Hinrik. Now they know that I am here. They know that I will try to steal the carving. If I succeed, why should they suspect you? You will demand a troop of I.P. men to guard your own capsule, too. You will issue a statement saying that all national differences must be submerged in order to capture Leland Hale. And, in the end, you will have the carving, and Nordapfahl will not--which will prove that Sudapfahlians are better guards than the northerners."

Hinrik Fonshliezen nodded slowly, and a faint smile crossed his pointed face. "I see. Yes--I see. Very clever, Mr. Hale, very clever." Then the smile vanished again. "But I don't see how you're going to get at the capsule with that guard around it."

"I managed to plant that capsule of mine under your capitol building without being detected by the local citizens. Don't worry, I'll manage."

Hinrik snorted. "There was no guard around the capitol when you planted your bogus time capsule; there most definitely is a guard around the one in Grosstat."

"Let me worry about that," said Hale. "All you have to do is have that half million ready. And remember, I can always sell the Dachboden elsewhere. I won't get as much, I grant you, but I'll still make a tidy profit."

Hinrik Fonshliezen grimaced. "Suppose--just suppose--that you don't get the carving. Where will that leave me?"

Hale shrugged. "No better off, and no worse. You'll simply have a time capsule of no importance. After all, you haven't claimed that there actually is a Dachboden in it, while Dr. Mier has definitely made the claim that there is one in _his_ capsule."

"Such a thing would not make me popular with the people of Sudapfahl, however," Fonshliezen pointed out. "And that is what this whole thing is supposed to do."

"It wouldn't make you unpopular, either," Hale said. "And neither would it cost you five hundred thousand stellors. You'd come out even." Hale stretched elaborately. "But you don't need to worry; you'll get your statue."

"When?"

"On the day the capsule is due to open. Not a minute before. Meanwhile, I shall make myself comfortable here in your home, where the I.P. won't look for me, and I'll go on making myself comfortable until I'm ready to pull off my little job. Mix me a drink, Hinrik; there's a good fellow."

* * * * *

The Museum of Cultural History in Grosstat, Nordapfahl, positively bristled with arms and men. Its stone walls looked like those of a fortress instead of a museum.

Captain Whitter had taken every precaution. No guard over six feet in height was allowed within a block of the building; Hale couldn't disguise his height. Inside the building, technicians with sensitive equipment hovered over dials and meters.

"It's possible that he may try to tunnel under the building," the captain explained. "It wouldn't be too difficult with modern equipment. But if he tries it, we'll have him."

Around the capsule itself stood an honor guard of a dozen picked I.P. men; around them stood a second ring of Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon's men. All through the building, lights blazed brightly as the guard kept on a round-the-clock watch.

Precision detectors scanned the skies for any sign of flying craft after a State Police order grounded all aircraft within five miles of the Museum. Special illumination projectors were set up all over the area to pick out anyone wearing an invisibility suit, although the I.P. didn't mention anything about that, since at that time the invisibility suit was supposed to be an official I.P. secret. Nevertheless, Captain Whitter didn't bypass the possibility that Leland Hale might have laid his hands on one of them.

Captain Whitter surveyed his work and found it good.

"We're ready for him," he said. "All we have to do is wait for him to come."

They waited.

And waited.

Eventually, the spaceship _Quinsen_, out of Denebola arrived and several genuine staff members of the Interstellar Museum disembarked, followed by reporters of a score of news services. They were carefully checked and kept well beyond the outer perimeter of the guard.

And the guard went on waiting.

Came the eve of the day of the Grand Opening, the day when the radio-decay clock would release the lock on the time capsule. Captain Whitter was in a nervous sweat by this time, as were the others.

"He'll have to try it tonight," the captain stated positively. "We'll double the guard and sweat him out."

But only the guard did any sweating. The night passed peacefully, if somewhat tensely, and the sun rose on the most jittery bunch of men this side of the Lesser Magellanic Cloud.

And still nothing happened.

When the hour came for the lock to open, the representatives of the Galactic Museum demanded to be let in, but Captain Whitter was as adamant as cast tungsten. No one would be allowed near the capsule until Leland Hale had been captured.

At the final hour, the guards stood nervously around the big metallic cylinder. Within the ring of armed men, Captain Whitter, Lieutenant-Marshal Dilon, and Dr. Rudolf Mier stood, looking at the capsule and waiting.

Something inside the time capsule clicked softly. A door in its side slid neatly open.

Dr. Mier gasped and ran forward. "It's empty! It's empty!"

Whitter and Dilon were practically on his heels.

A look inside showed that the Director was not quite correct: the capsule wasn't absolutely empty. Inside there was a single sheet of paper; printed on one side was the following message:

_Gentlemen_:

_I'm sure that the late R. Philipp Dachboden appreciates the trouble you have gone to. If it wasn't successful, don't blame yourselves; you tried._

_As for the statue and various other_ objets d'art, _I'm afraid they are now_

_Respectfully mine, Leland Hale._

* * * * *

A short time previous to the flamboyant opening of the capsule in Grosstat, and several hundred miles away, His Excellency, Hinrik Fonshliezen, State Portfolio of Sudapfahl, sat nervously in his office. If the I.P. men were sweating, Fonshliezen was absolutely soaked in his own juices. He sat at his desk, looking from his watch to the telephone and back again. He was expecting a call.

Even so, when the phone rang, he jumped. Then he grabbed the instrument. "Hello! Fonshliezen here!" he barked hoarsely.

"Hinrik, old spirillum, I have your merchandise. You know where to meet me. And--ah--remember what I told you."

"You got it? Where have you been? You've been gone for two days! What--"

"That's none of your business, Hinrik; just come on. And remember--none of your clever foxiness."

"I'll remember," Hinrik said.

There was a click as the instrument was hung up.

Hinrik Fonshliezen frowned worriedly and glanced at the briefcase on his desk that held half a million stellors in Interstellar Bank drafts. How could he be sure that Hale actually had the carving? He glanced at his watch again. The news should come through soon. Hale had told him to wait for the news from Nordapfahl.

He was well prepared for any tricks on Hale's part. He had put a special lock on the briefcase; if Hale just tried to take the money, it would be too bad for Hale.

On the other hand, Hinrik Fonshliezen was well aware that he, himself had better not try anything foolish. If Hale were killed or reported to the police--in other words, if he didn't make a clean getaway--certain audio-video recordings would go to the I.P., disclosing Hinrik's complicity in the deal.

The whole thing had to be on the up-and-up.

The phone rang again. His Excellency picked it up and identified himself. He listened. A broad, wolfish smile spread itself over his face.

"So Hale actually did it?" he said. "Well, that's too bad, my dear fellow. Of course, we must take the utmost precautions ourselves."

He hung up, and, whistling softly to himself, he picked up the briefcase and left his office.

* * * * *

For all of half a day, there was great rejoicing in Sudapfahl when it was discovered that the time capsule in Grunfelt had opened and had disclosed a marvelous collection of two-century-old artifacts, including a Dachboden original. His Excellency, the Portfolio of State, was the man of the day.

But it didn't last more than half a day. When the art experts pronounced the Dachboden a phony, the popularity of Hinrik dropped; when it was proved that the whole time capsule, with contents, was actually the one that belonged in Grosstat, Hinrik's popularity collapsed completely. He was held by the I.P. for questioning and confessed all.

By that time, Leland Hale was a good many parsecs away in his own private ship.

An excerpt from the report filed by Captain Whitter contains some enlightening information.

"What happened became obvious after the fact," the captain wrote. "The whole buildup was a phony from beginning to end. Hale had heard of the time capsule in Grosstat, so he went to Apfahl with a duplicate time capsule, which contained his note. He tunneled underneath the Museum and switched capsules. It was not until after he had made the switch that he planted the forged Dachboden note for Dr. Mier to find.

"There never had been a Dachboden carving in the capsule; that was all a figment of Leland Hale's imagination.

"Dr. Rudolf Mier couldn't understand why Hale had done it. 'Why did he make me think there was a statue in there?' he kept asking me. 'Why did he do this to me?'

"I think the answer is simple. The records show that Hale was on Kessin IV three years ago, during the war there. I believe that he actually was swindled himself; someone sold him a bogus Dachboden. Remember, the art-swindler Fenslaw was killed at that time.

"Hale, therefore, had a phony Dachboden on his hands that he had to unload to save his pride. More, he had to make a very big profit on it.

"He knew that he couldn't just try to sell it anywhere. Even if he found a sucker who would accept it as real, there wouldn't be enough money in it to make it worth Hale's time.

"He couldn't have sold it to Fonshliezen without the big buildup. If he'd just produced the carving from nowhere, Fonshliezen would have been suspicious. A few simple tests would have shown that the _dynak_ wood was less than ten years old.

"Obviously, Hale had to get Fonshliezen into a position where he would accept the carving without testing it.

"Hale, therefore, planted an empty time capsule, with his note inside, under the Museum and took the real capsule with him. By bombarding the time lock with neutrons, he managed to increase the radioactivity enough to keep the lock closed for an additional twenty-four hours, so that he could palm the real capsule off on Fonshliezen as a phony which he had presumably set himself.