The Chief grunted at him. "Quit being modest. Sally----"

Mike flung himself at the Chief, literally snarling. His small fist hit
the Chief's face--and Mike was small but he was not puny. The "crack" of
the impact was loud in the car. Haney grabbed. There was a moment's
frenzied struggling. Then Mike was helplessly wrapped in Haney's arms,
incoherent with fury and shame.

"Crazy fool!" grunted the Chief, feeling his jaw. "What's the matter
with you? Don't you feel good?"

He was angry, but he was more concerned. Mike was white and raging.

"You tell that," he panted shrilly, "and so help me----"

"What's got into you?" demanded Haney anxiously. "I'd be bragging, I
would, if I'd got a brainstorm like you did! That guy Sanford woulda
wiped us all out----"

The Chief said angrily, between unease and puzzlement:

"I never knew you to go off your nut like this before! What's got into
you, anyway?"

Mike gulped suddenly. Haney still held him firmly, but both Haney and
the Chief were looking at him with worried eyes. And Mike said
desperately: "You were going to tell Sally----"

The Chief snorted.