They thought they had killed him but Parker had survived their bullets to become the most dangerous game of all — the beast at bay. The prey had suddenly become the hunter and now Parker was stalking them. And he had only three things on his mind— Mal— Mal had double-crossed him on a heist out on the West Coast. Then he’d run off with Parker’s share of the loot and left him for dead. Lynn— Lynn was his wife but she’d played the Judas ewe by setting him up for the slaughter. She was living in New York City somewhere now, with Mal. The syndicate— They had a lot of his money. Mal had welshed on a debt and paid off with Parker’s share of the heist. Parker wasn’t so much vicious as primitive. He believed in the oldest law of all — a life for a life!

You got to excuse an old man — need help! Joe Sheer was an old-time jugger who’d cracked his first safe the other side of World War I. He wasn’t working any more now, but in his day he had been one of the best. So when Parker got Joe’s letter, which was one long agonized scream for help, he pulled out his suitcase and started packing. But it wasn’t for Joe Sheer that he packed, or called the airport and made a reservation for the first thing flying to Omaha. As far as he was concerned the old fool could drop dead. Parker was packing for himself. He was going because in Joe’s letter he saw danger to himself much more obvious and lethal than any personal peril Sheer had been describing. Joe was just an old jugger turned rusty and shaky and scared, an old jugger ready to trade any man he’d ever worked with for a nice soft mattress and a nice warm radiator and a little peace of mind

It all started when a small statuette — stolen from a fifteenth-century tomb during the French Revolution — turned up suddenly in America. A man named Harrow, the very rich father of a very naughty daughter, offered Parker $50,000, in advance. to steal it. This presented no special problem since stealing was Parker’s business anyway, and besides, Bett Harrow, the daughter, had something of Parker’s that was very incriminating. But the statuette was in the Washington residence of a man named Kapor, a minor official from one of the Communist nations, who not only had the stolen statuette but had also misappropriated $100,000 of his government’s funds. It was all very confusing for a while. And then

Just because no one had ever tried it before? What better place for a heist, if it was timed right, than a football stadium? There’d have to be money in the box office; the game was a sellout. Every eye in the place would be glued to the action down on the field. Even the getaway would be a cinch. Who was going to challenge an ambulance, either going out or coming in? An ambulance, with one of the seven at the wheel in a white uniform, and the swag neatly shrouded in the back. The only problem was changing cars, and Parker had that one figured, too. So, they’d find an abandoned ambulance. Who was to know who’d been driving it? Because by that time Parker and the other six would be back at the hideaway divvying up the loot!