O'Toole hesitated. He had something else to get off his chest.
"Jeff," he spoke gravely. "It's only fair to tell you that being Wade's twin may get you into some pretty heavy trouble."
Jeff grinned queerly.
"Good!" he said. "I sort of like the stuff."
The door slammed behind them and the light from the single window faded against the dark field.
A swift shadow of a man darted from between the empty space docks. The stranger's arm went high and jerked straight. A wicked knife flicked from the steeled fingers. It missed Blake's neck by inches; struck the heavy door behind him. Blake took two swift steps forward, realized the man was already lost in the night. He stopped and pivoted. O'Toole had already jerked the knife from the door, was staring at it with tight lips.
"Playful bunch of goons you've got around here," Blake said mirthlessly.
"I'm afraid that's some of the trouble I mentioned," O'Toole replied. "I told you Wade is stirring up a pack of trouble and I'm afraid you're dropping right into the middle of it."
He held the knife out toward Blake and the younger man took it.