McLeod toyed with his parabeam, then watched as matching weapons leaped into the hands of the two younger gunmen.
"What paper, guy?" the older one drawled.
McLeod felt his heart flutter wildly and checked a strong impulse to laugh.
One of the young gunmen said, "I thought the big boy himself was covering this. Wainwright. I know what he looks like."
"Come on, guy. What paper?"
McLeod knew the mistake could be fatal. Somehow the World had learned what the Star-Times had planned for Mayor Spurgess. These men were World gunmen, come to thwart Lantrel's men. Perhaps they could, but McLeod might die in the process.
"Listen," he said desperately. "The other day, Weaver Wainwright made me a proposition."
"Who are you?"
"Darius McLeod. Hold on, damn it! If you freeze me now, you'll be making a mistake. Wainwright wanted me to work for the World. That's why I'm here, don't you understand? I can tell you exactly what the Star-Times is going to do."
"We already know, McLeod. You're skating where the signs say not to, guy. I guess you know that."