"Am I under arrest?"
"No." The agent smiled a little. "I suppose, if we had to, we could get you for speeding and reckless driving; that was pretty fancy dodging you did. But we're not supposed to be traffic cops."
Sam smiled feebly. "What's this all about?"
"I haven't the faintest notion, Mr. Bending. Honestly. We were told to stick with you until we got word to pick you up. We got that word just shortly after you ... hm-m-m ... after you left us. Fortunately, we found you at home. It might have been difficult ..."
"Can we go in my car?" Bending asked. "I'd rather not leave it unguarded just now."
"Certainly. I'll go with you, and Steve can follow." He paused. "But I'm afraid you'll have to take that revolver out of your pocket and put it away."
"Sure," Bending said. "Sure."
Bending's mind simply refused to function during the drive back to the city. The FBI agent beside him just sat silently while Sam drove the car.
Once, Sam asked: "Who is it that wants to see me?"