When the day had ended, he didn't go to his dorm. Instead, he made sure no one was following him, and started taking the sidewalk all the way to his address.

We put a tail on the guy, and followed him all the way to the duplex on the end of Bonham Court.

We hid behind an array of shrubs, and watched him ring the doorbell.

A tall, bulky German man with a heavy mustache answered it.

"You again!" he yelled. "Pay the rent money now, or you can kiss your residency here goodbye!"

"Calm down, Shep," the man said. "I'm just here to pick up a few things."

A woman came to the door. "Sheppard, let him in," she said, giving the man a scornful look. "Even if he doesn't have the rent money now, he'll have it soon."

She bent forward into the man's face. "Very soon," she growled. The man backed away, but went inside.

"Quickly!" Violet cried. "To that tall oak tree."

"What for?" I said. "So we can see inside," she told me.

We scurried over to it, and started to climb up to the highest limb. There was a window, and a bedroom.

The man walked inside, apparently it was his. He picked p some letter.

Then he said, "Shep." Then he tore the thing up, like there was no tomorrow.

"Jeez," Quigley said. "No wonder he's so articulate. He has a bad life already."

"Yeah, and the voting's tomorrow," Isadora reminded him. "We better go inside and tell him it's a deal."

"But how much of the reward money would he take?" Klaus asked.

"We don't know, but I have a feeling he won't be able to take any money if we don't call it deals with him," Violet said. "Come on."

I was sitting farthest on the edge of the limb, and Klaus was stretching his leg when he accidentally kicked me off.

I plummeted about fifteen feet to the ground. I landed on my back and yelped in pain.

"Oh, sorry Duncan!" Klaus called. "You okay?"

"Yes, Klaus!" I screamed. "You kick me off a tree fifteen feet, I land on my back and you wonder if I'm okay? I've practically got a dent in my back, my spine's practically jostling, and my whole body's sore! If you're wondering if I'm okay, I AM JUST FINE, KLAUS BAUDELAIRE!"

The German man flung open the door and hollered, "What is the racket out here?"

He looked at me. "Who are you?" he said. "Uh, a visitor for ," I said.

The man, Shep, I guess, said, "Fine. Come in."

He told me where the man's room was, and I bounded up the stairs.

The man was reading a magazine. He peered up at me. "Duncan? Do we have a deal or what?" I nodded.

"Good," he said. "These German hounds are driving me crazy."

"Do we have your permission?" I asked.

He said, "Sorry, but I can't get it to you today. It'll have to be tomorrow."

"What?" I cried. "It has to be today! It has to!"

"I'm sorry," he said. "But I can't give it to you today. End of discussion."

I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him up to meet me face-to-face. "Today," I growled. "Right now or I beat the snot outta you."

"Okay, okay!" he cried. "Let me write it down."

He wrote down a permission note with blue ink, and handed it to me. "Don't forget your half of the deal," he said.