“Fair Play for Cuba.”

“That’s the one.”

“It wasn’t exactly a front organization,” I said. “The Cuban Government supported it, of course, but it was more than a straight propaganda outlet at the time. Leftist-dominated, naturally. An organization composed of people who were concerned that the United States might interfere in the internal affairs of Cuba.”

“Mmmm.”

“An unwarranted assumption, of course. The Bay of Pigs showed as much.”

“It did?” He looked at me oddly, seemed about to say something, then sighed shortly and lifted the Scotch bottle. I was perspiring far too heavily to want anything without ice, especially whiskey. He helped himself to another small drink and tossed it off.

“Where were we?”

“ Cuba.”

“Yes. Not our normal bailiwick, you know. The Boy Scouts generally keep an eye on that part of the hemisphere.”

“Still?”

“Yes, even now. To err is human, that seems to be the official line. And naturally they want to stay with it, you know. I think they hope to improve their track record down there.”

“Shouldn’t be hard.”

“Not at all.” He put down his glass, placed his pudgy hands in his lap, and folded them. I waited for him to tell me that I had to go to Havana, disguised as a worker in the canefields, to shave Fidel in his sleep. Havana would be just the place in August. It was the only city I could think of offhand that was almost certain to be warmer than New York. It was bad enough to be handed an assignment that was dangerous, stupid, and immoral. This one promised to be all of those, and uncomfortable in the bargain.

“I may be sending you on a wild-goose chase, Tanner.”

“Oh.”

“I almost handed the whole thing back myself when I first got wind of it. Almost told them to give it to the Boy Scouts. They’ve got the manpower to spare, they can afford to send people on fool’s errands, and a lot of their personnel aren’t geared for much better than that. Almost gave it back, Tanner, but then I thought of you.”