took out a small pad and a short ball-point pen. He wrote something down before he spoke again. "Is he violent? Did he get angry when you told him there was no cliff?"

Mrs. Nest was silent for a moment. A second piece of popcorn joined the first. Hanstark's pen was poised above the pad. "No. He didn't get violent."

Hanstark wrote as he asked the next question. "Just what was his reaction?"

"He said I must be crazy."

"Were those his exact words?"

"No. He said that I was"— She thought for a moment—"loco. Yes, that was the word."

"Loco?"

"Yes. He said it just like those cowboys on the television."

Hanstark looked puzzled. "Perhaps you had better tell me more about this. When did he first start acting this way?"

Mrs. Nest glanced up at the television set, then back at Hanstark. "It was right after Texas Week. You remember—they showed all of those old cowboy pictures."

Hanstark nodded.

"Well, he stayed up every night watching them. Some nights he didn't even go to sleep. Even after the set was off, he sat in one of the chairs, just staring at the screen. This morning, when I got up, he wasn't in the house. I looked all over but I couldn't find him. I was just about ready to phone the police when I glanced out the window into the backyard. And I saw him."

"What was he doing?"

"He was just sitting there in the middle of the yard, staring. I went out and tried to bring him into the house. He told me he had to watch for someone. When I asked him what he was talking about he told me that I was crazy. That was when I phoned you, Mr. Hanstark."

"A very wise move, Mrs. Nest. And would you show me where your husband is right now?"

She nodded her head and they both got up from the chairs. They walked through the dining-room and kitchen. On the back porch Hanstark came to a halt.

"You'd better stay here, Mrs. Nest." He walked to the door and opened it.

"Mr. Hanstark," Mrs. Nest called.

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