"How about a look at the Intelligence report?" I asked.

"Wait a minute." Splitt was gone for twice that time, then he carne
back. "Sorry, it's classified."

"If all this stuff is bunk, why keep the lid on it?" I demanded. I was
getting sore again.

"Look, Don," said Splitt, "I don't make the rules."

"Sure, I know--sorry," I said. I had a notion to ask him if he knew
John Steele, but hung up instead. There was no use in banging my head
against the Air Force wall.

The next day I decided to analyze the Mantell case from beginning to
end. It looked like the key to one angle: the question of an Air Force
secret missile. Unless there was some slip-up, so that Mantell and his
pilots had been ordered to chase the disk by mistake, then it would be
cold murder.

I couldn't believe any Air Force officer would give such an order, no
matter how tremendous the secret to be hidden.

But I was going to find out, if possible.

{p. 37}



CHAPTER V