"Who knows? He's a Kanton."
Remo shook his head. "I think I missed something there."
"Forget it. Anything else?"
"I need another car."
"Can't help you there," Harry said, turning a page of the newspaper. "Closest car dealer's back in Santa Fe."
"You see?" Chiun hissed. "It's fate."
"How far is it to the Sangre de Cristo Mountains?"
Harry squinted toward the fluorescent ceiling lights. "Can't say. Never been there. Sam might know. He's a Kanton."
"You've said that before. What the hell's a Kanton?"
"Indian, son. They come from around the Sangre de Cristo." Suddenly the old man grinned. He slapped his newspaper down so hard that his glasses slid off his nose. "You know what you need?"
"Yes," Remo said. "A map."
"Better'n that. You need a guide. A real wood-tracking, wind-smelling Indian guide. And I got just the man for you."
"Sam?" Remo asked without enthusiasm.
"None other." Harry slapped his knee and chuckled.
'Uh, no thanks," Remo said. "I think you need him more here."
"Hell, no. What I mean is," he added quickly, "it's the slow season. I can spare him for a few days. Come on, mister. What do you say?" There was pleading in his eyes.
Remo looked at him suspiciously. "I think I'll pass on Sam."
The old man exhaled noisily. "Shit," he said. "I didn't think it would work. Fact is, he's my nephew. My sister married a Kanton, and when she passed on, I got saddled with Sam. That was twenty-six years ago. Haven't been able to get rid of him since."
"What's wrong with him?"
"He's a damned Kanton, that's what's wrong," Harry screeched. "They're borrowers. They can't help it. It's in their blood. But it's driving me crazy. Got a shirt? Got a vacuum cleaner bag? Sheesh. Ever see the Kanton Indian Museum? It's got nothing but I.O.U.'s in it, some going back to the sixteen hundreds."
"You mean Sam's a thief?"
"Hell, no," Harry said, waving his hand. "Couldn't care less about money. Don't own anything, don't want to. But he'll borrow the teeth out of your head."
"Well, we don't have anything to borrow," Remo said, considering. "And we could use a guide, I suppose…."
"I'll tell you what," Harry interjected. "You take Sam off my hands, and the gas you got's on the house."
"Gee, I don't know—"
"We accept," Chiun said.
"We-ha!" Harry whooped, scurrying from behind the counter. "I'll tell Sam to get ready."
When the old man had run out, Remo turned to Chiun. "What'd you say that for? We don't even know this guy."
Chiun folded his hands into his sleeves. "It is simple. Now we have free gas. With it, we can return to Santa Fe. We will offer up this Sam person to the Emperor, saying that he forced us to leave our motel room temporarily. That way, Emperor Smith will not be offended that we were not present to receive a visit from Mona Madrigal."
Remo knocked the heel of his hand against his temple. "Are you kidding? That's the most twisted argument I've ever heard."
"With emperors, subtlety is everything," Chiun assured him.
A shriek that sounded like a strangled vulture sent them running outside.
It was Sam Wolfshy. He was lying on the ground, legs sprawled, arms flailing, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as Harry squeezed his neck with both scrawny hands.
"What's going on here?" Remo asked, pulling the old man off the big Indian. "I thought you liked him."
"Damned worthless Kanton!" Harry screeched. "I lay my balls on the line to give you a chance with these guys, and look what you do to their car!"
"Car?" Remo asked. He looked around for the Chevy. It was parked beside a jeep.
"I fixed the steering wheel, didn't 1?" Sam protested.
Remo looked inside the car with amazement. Indeed, the steering wheel was back in place. But both seats, as well as the dashboard, radio, cigarette lighter, windshield wipers, door handles, rear-view mirror, and all four tires were gone. They had all been neatly installed in the jeep next to it.
"He works quickly," Chiun said, impressed.
"So will the police," Remo said, turning to Wolfshy.
The Indian blinked in bewilderment. "But I only borrowed those accessories."
Harry clasped both hands to his head and reeled inside.
"Accessories?" Remo shouted. "You call tires accessories?"
"Hold, hold," Chiun said. "This person has possibilities."
"So do a lot of guys in San Quentin."
"Use your head, Remo. We take his car."
Remo looked from the old Oriental to the jeep. "Not bad, Little Father."
"Hey, wait a minute," Sam waffled. "I don't know about that."
"Let me explain it to you," Remo said in the manner of a born teacher. "Either we take your jeep, or you spend the next couple of years in the state pen. Now, what's your answer?"