Jack Ferguson passed through a concrete tunnel and stepped into a pool of light, then stopped.

The historical tides that bad swept the rest of the world since the war had left Jack Ferguson untouched and unimpressed.

If ever there was a man more anachronistic, more quixotic than Jack Ferguson, he had never met him.

Jack Ferguson glanced at the closed bedroom door where his wife slept fitfully, then spoke in a low voice.

"I have some information from Jack Ferguson we can use when we're on the carpet."

He usually felt his first responsibility was to an informant who was in danger, but now be had no time for Jack Ferguson.

After six rings the phone was answered, and Jack Ferguson came on the line, his voice sounding hesitant.

Pick up and place in protective custodyname of Jack Ferguson.

Jack Ferguson was not so important any longer.

I only want to know If it's worth getting Jack Ferguson killed.