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