I had gone out to lunch and had Ron run things while I was gone. An hour later I came back—and was treated to a rather disturbing sight:

Two men were there with Carl. Both looked disreputable; they had an "I lead a life of crime" aura about them!

"Well, hello!" one of them said. "You must be Barefoot Jenny. Make yourself comfortable. I'm sure you'd like to kick your shoes off!"

"Who are you?"

"My name's Carl, and this is my buddy Frankie. We're friends of Ron. Aren't we, ole' buddy?"

"Yeah," he said.

I had a good look at Ron. There was definite fear in his face. He probably knew these two boys—but they were NOT friends!

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"Oh, this is just a friendly little visit. We've just come back from a little… 'vacation,' and we wanted to check up on Ron. He's really come up in the world, hasn't he? He's now working for a female private eye! I can just imagine his fringe benefits!"

He and Frankie both laughed evilly.

I got an idea.

"I think I will take my shoes off," I said.

"Go right ahead!"

I sat at my desk and slipped off my shoes. Then I got up and faced them.

"You have nice feet!" spoke Frankie for the first time.

"Thank you."

"Well, we're going, now," said Carl. "But we'll be checking on you in the near future, Ronnie-Boy!"

They started to leave—but were in for a little surprise: Aside from taking my shoes off, I also locked my door! And that's not all I did!

They faced me. "Hey, what's going on!" said Carl.

I pulled my gun out. Frankie also tried to pull out a gun, but I quickly shot him in the arm!

"Any more moves like that and my aim will get better!" I said. "Is that clear?"

"Yeah!" they both said.

" Who are these two?" I asked Ron.

"We met in prison. I got on their bad side, while we were there."

"And they want to pay you back, right?"

"Yeah."

"Is that true, boys?"

"Yeah," they both conceded.

"I thought it was along those lines! You know what to do, Ron?"

"Yes, Jenny. And thanks!"

He sat at my desk. I continued to point my gun at them.

A few minutes later, there was a knock at my door. Ron put his foot on a switch, opening it.

Another Carl was there—Kirschenbaum! That was the other thing I did!

"These are two 'friends' of Ron's; kindly escort them out!"

"With pleasure!"


Ron and I told Carl the full story. It turned out that both had several parole violations, so they were taken back to jail, where they remain.

That procedure we did was one we had worked on together, just in case of a situation like this one.

A grateful Ron took me out to dinner, that night!