"It’s’ possible, but it's not the case. I wish it were-^-the pilot was a friend of mine."
"Oh-I'm sorry. But I had to know, for sure. You see, it's very important to me."
"Why?"
Matt sketched out Burke's version of what had happened, without giving Burke's name. As he talked, Sabbatello showed more and more annoyance. "I see," he said, when Matt was done. "It is true that some of the tests are psychological rather than overt. But this matter of the crash -who fed you that nonsense?"
Matt did not say anything.
"Never mind. You can protect your informant-it won't matter in the least in the long run. But about the crash-" He considered. "I'd give my word of honor to you-in fact I do-but if you accept the hypothesis your friend holds, then you won't pay any attention to my sworn word." He thought a moment. "Are you a Catholic?"
"Uh, no sir." Matt was startled.
"It doesn't matter. Do you know who Saint Barbara is?"
"Not exactly, sir. The field-"
"Yes, the field. She was a third-century martyr. The point is that she is the patron saint of all who deal with high explosives, rocket men among others." He paused.