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Title: Biddy and the silver man

Author: Harlan Ellison

Illustrator: Virgil Finlay

Release date: May 10, 2024 [eBook #73591]

Language: English

Original publication: New York, NY: Ziff-Davis Publishing Company, 1956

Credits: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BIDDY AND THE SILVER MAN ***





                       BIDDY AND THE SILVER MAN

                            By E. K. JARVIS

    _A man came out of the sky and they took him and hanged him from
    the nearest tree thinking that they lynched a devil. But perhaps
    they crucified a saint instead--there in the beauty of the desert.
    And what place could be more worthy of being called a second
    Calvary?_

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
                       Fantastic February 1957.
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


It was a typical blazing Arizona day. Pitiless sun distorting the
desert and making Sage Bend look like a toy town off in the distance.
Sage Bend and the surrounding desert were bone-dry, furnace-hot, and
generally depressing, but there were compensations. Buck liked it and
Biddy liked it because it was a country where a small crippled girl and
a tiny burro could go almost anywhere they pleased without danger.

Biddy was twelve. Polio had struck during her tenth year necessitating
a clumsy brace on her left leg. Thus it was a little difficult to play
with the children of Sage Bend and so Biddy's father had brought Buck
in from the Circle-7 ranch to be her companion.

Buck was a shaggy philosophical burro with ears almost as long as his
legs. He was gentle, rugged, and small enough for Biddy to mount all by
herself. Reliable, too. Buck would take Biddy anywhere she wanted to go
but he insisted on getting home to the little corral behind the house
at a reasonable hour so there was never any coming in after dark.

       *       *       *       *       *

There were many places around Sage Bend where a child and a burro could
go. Up in the foothills where Hoppy chased the bad men with Biddy and
Buck racing along in front of the posse. Or to the caves and _arroyos_
where an ogre or a giant sometimes captured a handsome prince and held
him until Biddy and Buck came along to rescue him.

They knew all the fascinating and magical places, these two, and they
were now headed for a flat next to King Arthur's castle where there
would be jousting that afternoon. Biddy said, "We'll have to hurry,
Buck. We mustn't keep Sir Launcelot waiting or he won't toss us his
handkerchief as he goes into the lists."

Buck wig-wagged complete understanding with his ears and increased his
speed not one iota. But he signified that there was plenty of time and
that they would make it.

"It will be a wonderful tourney, Buck. With all the knights and ladies."

Buck agreed as he pattered up the gulch toward the ridges, his absurd
little legs twinkling.

"A wonderful day and--wait a minute, Buck."

Buck stopped and flopped his ears while Biddy stared thoughtfully at a
ridge.

Biddy stared for quite a while with a little frown between her blue
eyes. Then she looked all around as though to reassure herself of her
location. "There's a cave up there, Buck."

The news failed to stir any great interest in the burro.

"It wasn't there before. That's the place where Roy Rogers caught those
rustlers and licked all four of them single handed. There were some
rocks, but not any cave." Biddy looked about swiftly and a tiny prickle
touched the back of her neck and then was gone. It was so quiet around
here; so suddenly still and waiting-like.

       *       *       *       *       *

But that was foolish. It was always still up here in the ridges
except for a horny toad maybe scraping faintly on a rock or a little
dust-devil stirring the dry grass as it stood on its tail and whirled.

Always quiet and she was being foolish. Roy or Hoppy or Davey Crockett
wouldn't sit there half-afraid. Biddy said, "Let's go, Buck," and urged
the burro to the left toward the rocks.

The cave was clearly visible from the foot of the big boulders and
Biddy waited for some moments before she slid off Buck and began
climbing the hill. Her leg brace impeded her progress somewhat and
clicked every time she took a step.

"No, it couldn't have been here before," she said. "That spot was just
a wall in the rock. That was where Roy Rogers fell back and was real
groggy for a minute after the bad man smashed a ten-pound boulder right
down on his head."

But obviously, there was no solid rock wall now; instead, a rectangular
opening clean and even as though cut out of soft butter with a sharp
knife. Biddy moved resolutely forward. Ten feet from the opening, she
stopped and glanced back at Buck for moral support. Buck slapped at
a fly with his left ear and closed his eyes and gave all the moral
support he had. Biddy stiffened her little chin and went on.

It was a cave all right but the fact of its being was over-shadowed
by what it contained. There was plenty of light to see without going
inside and Biddy stood in the entrance and stared wide-eyed.

The main thing inside was a big box with funny knobs and dials on it; a
box of some kind of shining metal that almost hurt your eyes when you
looked at it. There were other things too--a lot of wires and a funny
looking chair and a thing that might have been a loudspeaker of some
kind maybe.

Biddy's mind raced. The Eastern Bloc? She turned her eyes up into
the sky where she could just make out the space station up there a
thousand miles away going around the Earth like another moon watching
day and night to see to it the people and the children of the Western
Bloc were always safe.

Maybe this box belonged to the Eastern Bloc. They had their own space
station but Biddy was just ready to bet they wanted to do something to
ours! Maybe this was some kind of a machine they sneaked in here and
built that would blow up our station. A pretty mean thing to do but the
Eastern Bloc did all kinds of mean things.

       *       *       *       *       *

Biddy was suddenly frightened--real-frightened, not just
play-frightened--because what if the men would come out of the cave or
from someplace and tie her up and not let her go back and tell Pop and
Mom what she'd seen? Then the space station would be blown up and not
even Davey Crockett could help because this wasn't like on television
where people got killed but not really. This was serious.

Biddy turned slowly, hoping now that the silence would stay as it was
and not break into the sound of heavy boots coming after her. It was
awfully hard but she went back down the hill slowly, because when she
went fast her brace rattled and made a lot of noise.

It seemed like a very long time before she was on Buck, urging him out
of the _arroyo_ and back toward Sage Bend.

And she got a little annoyed at how calmly Buck took it, ambling along
at his usual rate and not at all impressed by the danger. But then what
could you do with a stupid old burro that didn't even know how to wear
armor properly and always shook the plume off his helmet and ate it...?

       *       *       *       *       *

Dan Parker was tired. He held the jeep on the rutty road from the
Circle-7 to Sage Bend and thought of the cold bottle of beer that was
waiting for him at home. This twelve-mile drive every morning and night
was rough, but what could a man do? A man couldn't put his wife and
kid in a bunkhouse with a dozen hands, and there was no other place
for Jane and Biddy at the ranch. The house in Sage Bend wasn't so bad,
though. The rent was cheap and there were a few friends Jane could talk
to.

Dan wiped the dried sweat off his face and wondered why it cost so damn
much just to live. Of course, in his case, there was a reason. A big
reason. Biddy getting hit with polio had cleaned him out and put him in
debt. Not that he begrudged it of course. She was alive and that was
the main thing. That damned brace cut him every time he looked at it,
but she was alive and healthy again. He had no complaints even if it
took him the next ten years to pay off.

He was lucky in a lot of ways. Being foreman at the Circle-7 paid
little enough but it was still better than an ordinary cow hand's pay.
And young Davey getting hit with polio in spite of all the serums about
the same time it had clubbed Biddy down. Funny how bad luck for some
was good luck for others. Davey getting hit was tragedy for the boy and
for old Sam Taber, his father. But it had been good luck for Dan Parker
because if Davey hadn't been crippled he'd be foreman himself and Dan
Parker getting straight hand-money. Yeah, bad luck for some--good luck
for others. Not that he gloried in Davey's misfortune, but a man had to
look out for his own and the cards had just fallen that way.

Sage Bend came into sight and as Dan approached, he saw a plodding
figure in the middle of the road moving in the same direction. The
sight irritated Dan. Even when he got close enough to see the white
cane tapping on ahead of the shuffling feet, he was still irritated.

Why did Art Haney have to be like that? He was blind, sure, and
everybody felt sorry for him, but he didn't have to rub it in your
face. He could hear the jeep coming and could move over out of the way
but no, he had to stay smack where he was until you pulled to a dead
stop and honked. Then he would jump as though you'd just missed running
him down and cower on the side of the road. Didn't want anybody to miss
the fact that he was blind and helpless--as if they could!

Dan stopped and honked and watched Art put on his pathetic little act
and felt guilty because it didn't stir him. Maybe he was hardened, but
what the hell? Every time you came down the road. There's a limit.

Dan called, "Hi Art."

The answering voice had a falsetto that sounded faked. "Oh, it's you,
Dan. Blind man can't tell a thing like that."

"Want a ride into town?"

"No--no. I'll hobble along and make it myself. A blind man doesn't like
to think he's dependent on everybody. Tries to do the best he can."

"Okay. See you later."

"Sure, but I won't see you, Dan. Could of once, but can't any more."

       *       *       *       *       *

Dan Parker jammed down the gas pedal and the jeep rammed forward
kicking up a cloud of dust that left Art Haney coughing. Dan
immediately felt guilty. Mean trick, but he hadn't done it on purpose.
Just thoughtless.

He rolled the jeep into town and lifted a hand as he passed the jail.
Cecil Bates, sheriff of the county, lifted one in return but his
expression never changed. Sour--that was the word, Dan thought. Cecil
felt himself wasted in a country sheriff's job. Fancied himself of
big-town caliber, but all he did was park on a chair in front of the
jail and think about it. Sour was the word all right. In fact, Dan
thought, sour was the word for the whole damned town of Sage Bend. Come
to think of it, there wasn't a happy person in the place.

Except Biddy.

Dan parked the jeep and went in the house and got a bottle of beer out
of the refrigerator. He went on through and out into the backyard
where Jane was taking down the last of the wash. Damn--it seemed women
were always washing. Come home and everytime they were hanging clothes
or taking them down.

He stopped in the doorway and looked at Jane. Looked to actually see
her which was not the same as the ordinary looking people usually did.
There was a stoop in her slim shoulders and something--well, something
in the way she carried her body. Tired-like. She'd been so deuced
pretty when he'd married her; so pretty he'd just had to have her
and that was the only way. Why kid himself? He'd married her because
he wanted her and love, if there really was such a thing, had come
afterward. But it had come; or maybe it was habit. Anyhow, he couldn't
think of life anymore except in terms of Jane and Biddy.

But it would be nice if just one more time--just one night--there could
be the old spark, the old breathless fire that flamed so briefly and
had now smouldered down into a sort of tired consideration--an habitual
companionship with each knowing the other's habits and likings and
responding automatically.

But what the hell? What could you expect in this day and age? With
tension for breakfast and dinner and supper. With those two space
stations floating around up there waiting to blow the world up.
Watching day and night. There was little room to think of anything else.

       *       *       *       *       *

Jane turned with an armful of clothes and saw him. Her smile was a
quick up-turning of her lips and then it was gone. "Home, dear? Have a
hard day?"

"Rough. We moved three hundred head in from the north range to the
loading platforms."

Jane pushed past him and laid the clothes on the kitchen table. She
straightened and pushed a wisp of hair out of her eyes. "Three hundred
head. That's quite a few. What are they worth apiece, Dan?"

"Around two hundred and fifty dollars probably."

"And with all that money old Sam can't give you a little raise. I think
it's a sin."

"It isn't clear money, hon. Not by any means."

"All the same--"

Dan caught her as she tried to pass and kissed her. She responded
after a fashion but when it was over it was over. "I've got to get the
potatoes on. You go sit on the front porch, I'll call you."

"Where's Biddy?"

Jane stopped with a gesture of frustration as though this was something
she'd forgotten. "Oh, that child! I sent her to her room, Dan."

"To her room? Why?"

"I just had to. We've got to do something about that imagination of
hers. She can't separate reality from fantasy anymore."

"What was it this time?"

"Something about a cave up in the ridges with a big metal box in it.
The Eastern Bloc is going to use it to blow our station out of the sky."

       *       *       *       *       *

Dan shrugged. "Kids live in their own world, honey. Isn't sending her
to her room a little rough?"

"I had to. She was going down to tell Cecil Bates about it. Can you
imagine what--?"

Dan laughed. "He'd have probably arrested her for spreading rumors.
I'll take her out on the porch and talk to her, okay?"

"Just so you keep her out of my hair until I get supper ready."

Dan opened the door of Biddy's room and said, "Hi, pigeon. Hot in
there?"

"Not bad, Pop. There's a breeze through the window."

The gruesome leg brace smote him as usual and his inward tightening
against it was so habitual that he hardly noticed the slight tension
of his chest muscles. He said, "How about coming out on the porch and
telling me all about this cave?"

"Is it all right with Mom?"

"Uh-huh. I fixed it."

"She told you about the cave and the box?"

"Just mentioned it in passing. Told me to get the details from you."

He picked her up and carried her out front where they sat down side
by side on the front steps and looked out across the miserable little
desert town. Dan's eyes fell on the tavern front over near the depot.
There would be at least half a dozen drunks in there and after sundown
there would be foremen from the ranches roundabout talking them into
going back to work.

"The cave wasn't there before."

"It wasn't?"

"No. It's the place I always played Roy Rogers, but I went there
yesterday and there was a door in the rock."

"The door was open?"

"Wide open. I went inside and there was a big shiny box in there."

Maybe a man was better off in the city--in the war plants. "Well what
do you know about that!"

"Pop! You aren't listening."

"Oh yes, I am."

"But you don't believe me."

"I sure do."

"The box had a lot of tubes and dials on it."

Of course, now they'd taken the profit out of war there wasn't much
more money there either unless you worked fifteen hours a day. "Was Roy
there waiting for you?"

"Pop! It wasn't make believe! The box was really there and the Eastern
Bloc is going to use it to wreck our space station."

"They'd better not!" That was another thing. If the blow ever fell and
all the brains thought it was sure to, a man had better have his family
as far from a city as possible.

"I thought maybe they would capture Buck and me so we couldn't tell on
them but there wasn't anybody there. We got away all right."

Not that it would do much good. The radiation would get everybody
eventually. Maybe it would be better to be killed quick and get it over
with.

"Pop--I'm not fibbing to you--"

Dan roused himself from his somber thoughts. "I know you're not honey.
Listen, let's go out and give Buck some water and about that time Mom
will have supper ready. What do you say?"

Biddy sighed. "All right Pop...."

       *       *       *       *       *

The sun blazed down on the desert just as it had yesterday and would do
tomorrow. Biddy sat on the dozing Buck and looked across the rocks at
the place she'd first seen the doorway. It had taken a lot of courage
to come back here after being so scared before and after nobody had
believed her. They'd said there hadn't been any door at all--that she'd
only been make-believing.

And maybe--just maybe--they had been right, because there wasn't any
door there now.

Biddy urged Buck on up the slope. She went fearfully at first, then
with more courage because everything looked very quiet and peaceful,
really. Maybe the horrid people from the Eastern Bloc had realized how
silly it was--trying to blow up our station--and had packed up and gone
home. It wasn't scary at all now. Biddy urged Buck right up to the wall
and he stood there with his eyes half-closed catching a nap. And that
was good because you couldn't fool animals about people. If there had
been anyone around, Buck would have known, all right.

"Hello, little girl."

A chill went through Biddy. Not the cold kind, the tickly kind, as she
turned and saw the man. Buck turned and saw him too and then went back
to sleep.

The speaker was a man and Biddy wondered how on earth she could have
missed him. He was sitting on a rock beside the place the doorway had
been and while Biddy wanted to be scared and thought she ought to be
scared, she wasn't able to feel that way about the man at all.

He got up from his rock and stood there smiling at her. He was very
tall--taller than Pop who was no shorty himself--and had a kind of
yellow hair that was thick and curly. There seemed to be a shiny circle
around the hair but then Biddy saw that was just the sun and the way
the man was standing.

It was hard to say how old the man really was. He was about like Pop,
but in some ways he seemed a lot younger than that and in some ways
much older. It was very confusing. He was kind of slim but he had a
lot of muscle too--probably the way Davey Crockett would look with his
shirt off maybe.

Biddy raised one leg and the man said, "Need any help?"

"No--no I can make it all right."

"That horse seems to be built right to your size."

Biddy laughed. "Buck's not a horse."

"He's not? Or should I say she's not?"

This man was so funny. "Buck's a boy."

"Oh."

"And he's a burro, not a horse."

"Well what do you know about that? Can you imagine me calling him a
horse? Will you pardon me?"

       *       *       *       *       *

Biddy took a couple of steps toward the man, then stopped uncertainly.
"I--are you--?"

"Why don't you come over here and sit down with me?"

"Is--is it all right?"

"I don't know why not."

"I thought maybe you were from the Eastern Bloc." That was foolish of
course. Nobody as nice as this man could be from the horrid East.

"No. I'm not from there." The man's clear gray eyes were on Biddy's
brace as she approached.

"Then where are you from?"

That seemed to take a little thought. "Well, let's say I'm from the sky
bloc."

"There _is_ a sky bloc?"

"Oh, yes. A very big, big one. After all, the sky is very big isn't it?"

"Yes, that's right. But what are you doing here?"

That was obviously an even tougher one to answer. "Oh, I've got a
little job to do."

"You aren't going to blow up our space station, are you?"

"No, that is, I hope not."

"You mean that maybe you will?"

       *       *       *       *       *

The man's smile said everything was going to be all right and because
little girls understood smiles and believed them even more than words,
it wasn't necessary to go into the subject any further. "What's your
name?"

The man said some funny word that Biddy couldn't understand. She
laughed and he laughed too and then said, "Why don't you call me Joe?
That's a nice easy name to remember."

"It's a nice name. Do you live in the cave there where the shiny box
is?"

The smile left Joe's face. "You were inside the cave?"

"Yesterday. You left the door open."

"Yes. I'm staying there for a while." Joe changed the subject quickly.
"What's the matter with your leg?"

"I had polio."

"Polio? You were sick?"

"Yes, I was very sick, but I didn't die, so I was very lucky. I only
had my leg get so I can't use it."

"Only that, eh?" Joe mused and seemed intensely interested in the
brace. "What a crude conception of efficiency," and when Biddy asked
what? he said, "Oh nothing. May I look at that mechanism?"

"You mean my brace?"

"Yes."

Biddy came close and the man concentrated on the brace. Except that
Biddy thought he was more interested in her leg. His hands were very
gentle and then he looked up suddenly and said, "How would you like to
see the things I have inside the cave, child?"

"You can call me Biddy if you want to. My name is Ruth but Biddy's my
nickname."

"It's a nice one. Let's go inside."

Joe had a small thing on his shirt and it was only when he reached up
and touched it and the door of the cave swung open that Biddy noticed
the peculiar way he was dressed. And it was strange, she thought, that
she hadn't even seen the tight-fitting silver colored shirt and the
pants that were silver too and almost like skin they were so tight to
his legs. But even in noticing them now, Biddy didn't say anything
because they really weren't strange at all. Not when Joe wore them.

Joe took her hand and led her into the cave. He said, "Now don't be
afraid. None of this is made to hurt little girls."

"What's it for?"

"It's called a primary relay station."

"Like our space station?"

"No--not exactly. This station hasn't any guns. At least it hasn't the
kind of guns you know about."

"I'm glad. I'm afraid of atom and hydroshells. They kill people and
poison them and make them suffer."

"This station doesn't do that. It reaches out into space and brings in
all kinds of power. It's a magnet, you might say."

"What are you going to do with the power you bring in, Joe?"

"Now that's a very interesting question." Joe smiled. "Maybe we'll
tickle little girls with it."

Biddy laughed. "You're just joking with me."

"No, I'm not. Tell you what we'll do. Suppose I give you a little
sample?"

"That would be fun."

       *       *       *       *       *

Joe seemed to be wondering about the machine in the cave with one part
of his mind and talking to Biddy with the other. Not wondering exactly,
but kind of like Pop when he tried to rig the jeep up to pull the big
rock out of the backyard by just turning the back wheels. Pop had done
it too. He was smart about making things do the things they hadn't been
built to do and Joe looked as though he was trying to do the same thing
with his machine.

Joe said, "Why don't you sit right here, Biddy--on this chair. Then
we'll take this wire and fasten it there--so--and this one, here."

The wires were very shiny and Biddy thought they must be silver or
maybe platinum. Joe gave her one to hold in her left hand and she
asked, "When does the tickle start?"

"Right away now." Joe sat down in front of a board covered with
switches and dials and studied for a while. Then he said, "Close your
eyes, Biddy, and imagine you're far up in the sky--that Buck has wings
and he's carrying you clear over the mountains. Just think that and
don't open your eyes."

Biddy closed her eyes tight and imagined Buck with great big wings and
she laughed in her mind because the wings were bigger than Buck was and
he looked back at them and stamped his feet. But they worked and she
felt Buck lift her right off the ground and up into the sky. They were
really flying.

They sailed ever so far over the desert and over the purple mountains
Pop said he'd take her to see some day. It was very peaceful and cool
so high up in the air and such a funny feeling in her body. As though
going up in the sky was really waking up and like all the people down
on the ground were really asleep. So much warmth and feeling and
tingley happiness came into her legs and arms and body that she could
hardly hold it all. Hardly hold it all--hardly hold it....

"Wake up, Biddy."

Biddy opened her eyes. She was still sitting in the chair but all the
wires were gone and Joe was standing there looking down at her and
smiling. Biddy said, "Oh, I must have taken a nap."

"That's right. It was good for you. And now you'd better get along home
or your parents will be worried about you."

"Why don't you come with me? You can have supper with us."

"Not tonight, Biddy. Some other time."

Biddy got up and they walked hand in hand to where Buck was waiting,
Joe walking very slow because with her brace Biddy couldn't go very
fast. Joe lifted her onto Buck and she waved good-bye as they went down
the slope and away from the rocks. She waved again just as Joe and the
cave and the wall went out of sight. She was sorry to see him disappear.

       *       *       *       *       *

She got home a little late--Pop was already home--and Mom was cross.
Mom said, "Biddy, if you stay away like this again, I'll just take that
burro away from you."

Biddy knew Mom wouldn't of course, but it scared her just the same and
she didn't say anything about Joe. That was just as well, she thought,
as she washed up for supper. Mom and Pop didn't believe about the cave
so they would not believe about Joe either and the nice ride up in the
sky on Buck.

Pop was already at the table when Biddy came in and Mom was sitting
down. Biddy hobbled across the room and Pop looked up and said, "You
mustn't be late again, Biddy."

"I won't Pop."

Pop had looked back down at his food. Then he jerked his eyes up
sharply and back to Biddy as she came to her chair and pulled it out
and sat down.

Mom was putting potatoes on Biddy's plate and Pop just sat there and
stared at her, motionless. He didn't say anything or do anything and
finally Mom said, "Dan--what on earth's gotten into you? Something
wrong with the meat?"

Pop laid his fork down and said, "Get up, Biddy."

"What, Pop?"

"I said, get up."

"But Pop, I didn't mean to be late. Don't take Buck away from
me--please."

Pop frowned and made an impatient motion with his hand. "Oh, stop it!
Just get up and walk around the table and let me look at you."

Mom was looking at Pop kind of puzzled as Biddy got up and did as
she'd been told. Pop bent over and looked at her brace and her leg. He
ran his hand over her leg, his frown getting deeper and his face more
bewildered.

Suddenly he picked Biddy up and carried her into the bedroom and laid
her on the bed. Without saying a word, he began unbuckling the brace
and he was just lifting it away when Mom came in.

Mom said, "Dan--have you lost your mind?"

Pop gave her a quick, almost savage look and then turned back to Biddy.
He picked Biddy up and put her on her feet and said, "Now I want you to
walk over to the dresser."

Mom said, "Dan! For heaven's sake."

Pop barked back fiercely. "Can't you see it? Are you blind? Her leg's
thicker and bigger. It isn't shorter than the other one anymore!"

Then Biddy walked straight over to the dresser as though there had
never been anything wrong with her leg at any time in her short life.
She touched the dresser and then took her hand away and laughed and
walked back.

Pop bellowed, "Can't you see? _Her leg's healed._"

And Mom let out a kind of strangled cry and fainted dead away on the
bed....

       *       *       *       *       *

Dan Parker sat on a chair facing the lounge where Biddy sat close
beside Jane. Dan leaned forward and said, "Now just once more,
baby--tell us what the man did."

Jane said, "Dan! The child's exhausted. She's told us everything she
knows."

"She might have missed something. He had some sort of a diathermy
machine in this cave?"

"What's diathermy, Pop?"

"Never mind that. He fastened some wires from this machine to your leg
and after a while you went to sleep. Can't you remember anything else?"

       *       *       *       *       *

Biddy yawned. "Nothing except he was very nice and said he came from
the sky bloc."

Jane lifted Biddy in her arms. "I'm going to put her to bed. Nothing
can be done until morning anyhow. Poor baby!"

Dan sat staring at the wall until Jane returned. She came and laid a
hand on his shoulder and he looked up and his thoughts were suddenly
arrested. It was as though Jane had dropped years from her age. The old
glow was in her eyes--a soft wonder--a new happiness.

The realization impressed him but was lost to the new anxiety that was
swiftly rising in his mind. Jane said, "Isn't it wonderful, darling? I
can't understand it, but I've seen Biddy's leg and--and I don't care
how it happened. I don't care if the man in the hills is true or a part
of her imagination. The cure is real--_real_--and I've never been so
happy."

"I think he's genuine--he has to be--and tomorrow we'll find out about
him. But--"

"But what, Dan?"

"I was just thinking--"

Jane sat down on his knee and put an arm around his shoulders.
"Dan--you don't seem too happy about it. I don't understand why--"

Dan Parker looked at his wife and said, "There's another angle to it,
Jane."

"Another angle?"

"If there is such a man as Biddy describes and he cured her deformity,
then he can cure the deformities of others, too."

Jane was puzzled. "I suppose that's true."

"He could cure young Davey Taber."

"Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"I suppose so, but then Davey will take over the foreman's job at the
Circle-7--my job."

Jane got up from her husband's knee. There was horror in her look.
"Dan, do you mean you'd let so small a thing as that influence you
in--?"

Dan Parker sprang up also. "Small? You know we could not get along on a
cow hand's salary. We'd starve to death. And I'm no good for anything
but ranch work. It's all I know!"

"Dan--please!"

He turned suddenly contrite--somewhat ashamed, but in a way, he stuck
to his guns. "Sure--I suppose it's rotten of me to think that way, but
I've got you and Biddy to provide for. You two are my responsibility.
It may not mean anything to you having people say Dan Parker can't
support his family, but it means a lot to me!"

Jane looked at him quietly for a long moment before she said, "Dan,
I--I just haven't any words. What you're thinking is almost evil--the
way you feel about this--but I can't think of a logical answer or
argument to show you where you're wrong. The thing's just--just beyond
words."

Dan dropped to the lounge and sat staring at the floor. "I guess I'm a
pretty rotten individual."

Jane spoke quietly. "The only thing I can say, darling, is that we'll
always get along. We always have."

"Well, I can't do anything about it anyhow. Let's go to bed."

"Of course. You'll feel better in the morning, Dan. By that time you'll
realize what's actually happened. Biddy's been made whole. There's been
a miracle, darling!"

"That's right--a miracle...."

       *       *       *       *       *

Biddy awoke very early. There was a funny little fluttery fear inside
her and she lay for a while trying to find out what it was. There
wasn't anything to be afraid of--nothing she could think of. Nobody
had--

She sat up and moved both her legs off the bed and put her feet on the
floor. Then she remembered that her left one was all right again and
she forgot all about hunting for where the fear came from. She was too
completely happy to worry about it.

She got out of bed and dressed and tiptoed through the living room,
being very quiet. When she got outside there was a faint streak of dawn
in the east and she almost laughed aloud at the wonderful feeling that
came from the cool, sharp morning air, the dead predawn stillness, and
not having to hobble along with the old brace on her leg.

Buck flopped his ears and seemed a little annoyed at having to get
up so early but he finally agreed to come out of the corral and take
Biddy up to the ridges. Even without any breakfast, so Biddy knew that
regardless of his seeming sullenness he felt pretty good too.

Biddy didn't quite get out of town unseen. There was someone else up
early too. Cecil Bates came slowly up the main street and as Buck
approached him it was light enough for him to look at Biddy and say,
"Wait a minute, honey. You forgot something."

"Good morning, Mr. Bates. No, I don't think so."

"Your brace, Biddy. How in hades did you get on that burro without it?"

"Oh, I don't need it any more. A man fixed my leg yesterday."

"A who--did what?"

"A very nice man up in the hills. He has a shiny box and he had me hold
some wires and now my leg is all healed up again."

"What man are you talking about?"

"He has a cave up there. At first I thought he was from the Eastern
Bloc and was one of our enemies. But he's from space or somewhere and
he's very good."

Cecil Bates stared at Biddy's leg and then came close and put his hands
on it. Biddy didn't like that very much and she kicked a heel into
Buck's ribs and said, "I've got to go now, Mr. Bates. It's going to be
a very nice day isn't it? Good-bye."

She rode away leaving the sheriff standing wide-eyed in the middle of
the street with his mouth open. As she moved out of town she looked
back uneasily, the nameless fear nagging at her again. She had the
feeling of having done or said something wrong but she wasn't sure what.

       *       *       *       *       *

The east brightened into fresh dawn as Buck pattered along toward the
ridges. Biddy had never been up so early before and she thought it was
wonderful but her happiness was dampened a little by the fact that
she'd gone off without asking Mom. That was wrong, she thought, and
maybe Mom would be angry. But Biddy's thoughts were mainly occupied
with wondering why she had done it. She hadn't consciously wanted to
deceive Mom, but something she could not really understand had made
her sneak off so quietly.

       *       *       *       *       *

The same thing that made her uneasy about telling Mr. Bates what had
happened. Then the ridges were close and she could see the rocks and
the place the doorway should be. The door was closed and Biddy guessed
that Joe didn't get up very early either.

She rode as close as she could and was just about to call out his name
when a pair of hands lifted her and swung her off Buck and set her on
her feet. And Joe was saying, "Hello there, youngster. Up pretty early
aren't you?"

Biddy wasn't even frightened at his appearing that way from nowhere. At
least that was how he had seemed to appear. She said, "I woke up and I
wanted to come out and thank you for fixing my leg."

"That wasn't necessary."

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Not yet. I was up early too and I was just sitting out here doing some
thinking."

"Are you expecting to eat breakfast soon?"

"Right now as a matter of fact. You wait. I'll bring it out."

Joe touched the small thing on his shirt. The cave door opened and he
went inside and came out very shortly with a tray that he set down on a
rock.

Biddy looked at the tray and said, "That's awfully funny food."

"Funny?"

"Uh-huh. It doesn't look like any kind I ever saw before."

"Well you just try it and see if you don't like it."

Biddy picked up one of the little white sticks and bit off an end. She
chewed it warily, then with relish. "It's very good. Where did you get
it?"

"I brought it with me."

They ate in silence for a while, then Joe said, "Biddy, what do your
mother and father think of the Eastern Bloc?"

Biddy looked up in surprise. "Why they hate it of course. Everybody
hates the Eastern Bloc because they're mean and cruel."

"What do the people of your town expect to happen?"

"With the Eastern Bloc?"

"Yes."

"Everybody knows we'll have to fight them someday. We built a space
station and so they had to go and build one too and they want to wreck
our station so they'll have the only one. And when they do the big war
will start."

"And I suppose the Eastern Bloc knows you want to wreck their space
station?"

"Why they can't think that because we had one first and we could have
stopped them from building one but we didn't because we aren't mean
like they are."

"I see." Joe thought that over very carefully for a long time and then
all the food on the tray was gone and Biddy said, "What's the sky bloc
like, Joe?"

"The sky bloc?"

"That's where you said you came from."

"Oh, yes. Well, it's a little hard to describe. It's very big and I
think probably you'd like it if you ever went there."

"Did they send you away?"

"Not exactly. They sent me down here to do something."

"What do you have to do?"

"I have to talk to some people."

"What people do you have to talk to?"

"I'm not quite sure yet. I haven't made up my mind."

"When will you make up your mind?"

       *       *       *       *       *

Joe considered Biddy's questions gravely as though each one was very
important. "I'm not quite sure. That machine in the cave isn't just
to make little girl's legs well. It does other things. It tunes in on
thought waves just the way your television set tunes in on pictures."

"You mean it tells you what people are thinking about?"

"In a way, it does. And after a while I'll look at the things the
machine has recorded and then I'll decide what I have to do or say."

There was silence while Biddy's mind went off on another track. Pretty
soon she said, "Joe, there's a boy named Davey--well, he isn't a boy,
really, he's almost a man--and his leg is like mine was. He can't walk
on it either."

"Does he live in Sage Bend?"

"No. He lives on the ranch where my Pop works. I think it would be
awfully nice if you fixed his leg too."

"Perhaps I can."

Biddy clapped her hands and looked at Joe through bright eyes. "I think
you're wonderful, Joe--just wonderful--and there's old Mr. Haney. He's
blind, so maybe you could--"

Joe laughed. "Now wait a minute, Biddy. I'm no miracle man. I can't
reconstruct people's minds."

"But Mr. Haney's mind is fine. It's just his eyes that are no good."

"I'm afraid you're wrong about that."

"Do you know Mr. Haney?"

"Not exactly. I've wandered around a little and I met him while he was
taking a walk."

"Then you know how bad it is to be blind."

"Yes, but you don't understand, Biddy. I wouldn't be helping Mr. Haney.
I'd be hurting him."

"Hurting him?"

"Yes. Mr. Haney is far happier the way he is than if he had his sight
back. With his eyes functioning he'd be just like anyone else."

"That's what he wants."

"No he doesn't. Being blind makes him different and he's grown to
depend on that difference as a staff of comfort. He lives on the
sympathy he gets from people who can see. Mr. Haney doesn't know it
himself but he would be very miserable if we gave him back his sight.
As I said, Biddy, I can't change people's minds. I'm no miracle man."

"That's what Mom and Pop said happened to me. A miracle. Was that
right, Joe?"

"No Biddy. You see where I come from we're a little further ahead in
some scientific developments than the people down here. The expansion
and reconstruction of bone and tissue isn't very difficult when you
know how and have the right sonic frequencies to work with."

"I see," Biddy answered gravely although she didn't see at all. "But
what about Davey Taber? He doesn't really want to be crippled does he?"

"I doubt it. Maybe we'll have a chance to see...."

       *       *       *       *       *

The town of Sage Bend was in an uproar. The crowd--if the few dozen
persons who resided there could be called a crowd--were milling in
front of Dan Parker's house. They had seen some excitement and wanted
to see more.

It had started before dawn with Cecil Bates standing alone in the
street, watching Biddy ride off. When she had gone beyond his sight,
his confusion and consternation fused into a clear-cut thought. He'd
be triply damned if that heel Dan Parker hadn't been playing on the
sympathy of the town all this time.

Ever since Biddy had been brought back from the hospital in Phoenix.
Could you beat it? Putting a brace on a kid's leg and making her wear
it around town so people around town would be sorry for him. But why?
What end did it serve?

Then Cecil knew. Not the townspeople. Of course not. Sam Taber was the
target of Dan's rotten plan. Who'd ever think a man would be so scared
of his job he'd make his own daughter act a cripple in order to keep it?

Well, he wouldn't get away with it any longer. Cecil fairly vibrated
with the importance he felt within himself at having come upon this
secret. He'd show this town. So they thought he was just a slob who sat
in front of the jailhouse all day, did they? Just a bouncer to take
drunks out of the tavern and sober them up behind bars. He'd show them
they had to get up pretty early to get the wool over Cecil Bates' eyes
and keep it there.

Nick Sanford was just coming down to open his lunch counter in case
any late drinkers wanted an early cup of coffee. Cecil hurried in that
direction. Nick unlocked the door and said, "Hi, Ceec. Up early ain't
you?"

"Early enough to find out what's been going on around here."

"Something happen?"

"Your damn tootin' something's been happening. Met the little Parker
girl riding out on her burro."

"So early? Where was she going?"

"Not important. The important thing was she didn't have her leg brace
on."

"Come on in while I make coffee."

Bates followed Nick inside and said, "Didn't you hear me? I said she
didn't have her leg brace on."

"Why not?"

"Because she didn't need it. She's never needed it. Her leg's as good
as yours or mine."

"You must be joking."

"Did I ever joke, Nick?" Cecil asked tonelessly.

       *       *       *       *       *

Nick had to concede that one. In all the time he'd owned the lunch
room, he'd never seen Cecil Bates smile or say a light word. "What did
Biddy have to say about it?"

"Oh, she had some gobberish about a man up in the hills making her leg
well. Something Dan probably told her to say if she ever got caught."

"That doesn't seem logical. About Dan I mean. I can see why--"

Cecil laid out his ideas on the subject and Nick shook his head. "Can't
hardly go along with you on that. Don't figure it makes sense somehow."

"Gimme a cup of that coffee, will you?"

"Okay. So you think it's just been a masquerade all the time?"

"What other answer is there? A spindly, pipe-stem little leg doesn't
grow normal overnight."

"But we saw Biddy's deformed leg. All of us."

"I got that figured out too."

"Then tell me."

"Illusion," Cecil said wisely. "A kind of optical illusion. We see a
girl limping with a big brace on her leg. We really don't look any
further than that. We take it for granted the leg's bad. That's human
nature, Nick."

Sanford didn't seem entirely convinced but he didn't argue the point.
"Well, now that you know, what are you going to do about it?"

"Do about it? I'm going down there and expose that rat. After pulling a
slimy trick like that he should be held up for everybody to take a look
at."

"I don't know. I'd go a little easy if I were you."

Cecil's native caution perked up at the warning but he found a virtue
with which to defend his position. "I'd just be doing my duty--the
duty of any citizen. And I'm not going down there to accuse him. I'm
just going to ask him about it. I'll keep a completely open mind and
listen to what he has to say, the damned rat."

       *       *       *       *       *

Two men entered the lunchroom after coffee and when they'd heard
Cecil's story they didn't think much of the "man in the hills" yarn
either. In fact, they didn't think at all. As one whispered to the
other, "I don't know what the hell this is all about but Ceec is on his
horse and there might be some excitement so let's stick around."

The other one yawned. "This stinking town could certainly use some."

Another hour went by before the town really started gathering. Then,
with what amounted to a holiday spirit, heightened by the aura of
mystery involved, the crowd followed Cecil Bates up the street to Dan
Parker's bungalow. And the closer they came, the greater was Cecil
Bates' sense of self-importance. Without analyzing, he knew he was
happier than he'd been in many years. This was the way a sheriff should
act--how the job should be. Walking up the street to investigate
rascality with the town coming respectfully along behind. They were
depending on him and he wouldn't let them down....

       *       *       *       *       *

Dan Parker was finishing his breakfast. He scowled into his coffee and
said, "What did she have to pull a trick like this for? If she doesn't
get back I'll have to go look for her. I'll be late to work."

"Why should you have to do that?" Jane asked. "She knows the country.
There's nothing to hurt her. She has Buck with her."

"Jane, sometimes I don't understand you. Your own kid wandering around
in the desert and it doesn't bother you."

"I don't think it bothers you either. You're more worried about being
inconvenienced--being late to work."

"Now listen here--!"

"Oh, Dan! Let's not fight. It makes me a little sick to fight now.
Don't you realize that last night something wonderful happened?
Something we don't understand but wonderful all the same. Biddy was
healed--and here we are the next morning growling at each other like
a cat and a dog." Jane ignored the fact that Dan was doing all the
growling and added, "Besides, I'm sure she's all right. I--I feel it
somehow."

"You _feel_ it! You've gotten almighty sensitive--"

"Dan--please--" Jane stopped suddenly, caught by the sound of pounding
feet--the rumble of the crowd. "Someone's coming."

They went out on the front porch and saw the townspeople swarming into
the front yard. Cecil Bates was in the forefront with fat little Tom
Schultz, the mayor of Sage Bend beside him.

Jane's hands were gripped tight together and her heart was a dead
weight in her breast. "What's happened? What's the matter? Have you
found Biddy?"

"No, we ain't, Mrs. Parker," Bates said, then turned his words on
Dan. "This morning I saw her riding that burro out of town. And I saw
something else. She wasn't crippled at all. Never has been. Now we want
to know what kind of a shenanigan you're pulling, Dan Parker! Let's
have it straight."

Jane said, "It's true--it's true that Biddy's leg has been healed but
it was done yesterday by--"

"I know. She gave me that story about a man up in the ridges--something
Dan told her to say, prob'ly. But now we want the truth!"

"But you know as much as we do. We've told the truth--as much as we
know!"

"Now we ain't as big fools as you think, Mrs. Parker--"

"I tell you we've--"

Dan Parker pushed forward. His eyes were slitted and ugly. "Don't tell
him anything, Jane. Not another damned word." Dan pushed close to Bates
and the latter fell back a step from his eyes. "I want to ask you just
one question--are you calling my wife a liar?"

Bates hesitated and turned to Schultz for help. He had not expected
quite this show of belligerence. Schultz refused to become involved
however. He said, "Now wait a minute, Ceec. I don't know anything about
this. Besides it isn't my job. Mayor here's nothing but an honorary
office anyhow." Having stated his case, he backed away also as Dan
Parker moved forward and pressed Cecil Bates back against the crowd.

Bates said, "Now look here, Dan, I'm duly constituted law around here!"

"You're a damn snooping busybody and nothing more!"

"I got a right to investigate and find out if the law's been violated.
You know there's laws against abusing a child--"

Dan Parker's fist cracked against Bates' half-open mouth. A tooth
snapped and Bates kited backward. But he did not go down because there
were three men behind him who had come for the excitement. They threw
him back into the fray, one of them yelling delightedly, "You going to
let him do that, to you Ceec? You're the sheriff. Nobody ought to poke
the sheriff around."

Dan swung again, but Cecil Bates dodged and scurried to the side,
opening up a space that gave him time to draw his gun. His eyes were
cleared of fear now and there was a little sneer on his battered mouth.
"All right, Dan! You want to get gunned down? I can do it. Assaulting
an officer. And I got witnesses!"

Bates' trigger finger tightened. There would be joy for him in the
bullet he aimed. But at that moment someone in the crowd yelled,
"You're on his property, Ceec. You got a warrant?"

The statement was thoughtless and by sheer chance but it probably
saved Dan Parker's life. It made Bates realize his case might not be
considered legally clear in a courtroom.

But he could not bring himself to a complete loss of face. He said,
"You're going to jail, Dan. I mean it. One more move and I'll kill you."

This satisfied the volatile elements of the crowd. "Sure! Throw 'im in
the can, Ceec! Show 'im who's boss!" By golly! Sage Bend hadn't seen
such excitement in twenty years and maybe there'd be more! The two cow
pokes who had met Bates in the lunchroom congratulated each other with
happy grins. What if they had gone out early and missed all this?

Jane was clinging to Dan's tense arm. "Darling, go with him. Do as he
says. It's better than being killed." But his fist remained closed. He
was on the verge of pulling away from her when she whispered, "We've
got Biddy to think of!"

The fist relaxed and the arm dropped. Dan said, "Okay, _Sheriff_. Let's
go."

As Bates followed Dan down the street toward the jail, his gun held
importantly level, there were comments from the crowd. "Pretty cocky
for a guy with his neck out.... Acts as innocent as all get-out, don't
he?"

The remarks stiffened Cecil's courage. He'd done the right thing all
right. The crowd was behind him. They respected him. It wasn't bad
being sheriff after all.

His ego rose pleasantly, but only to be knocked flat three minutes
later in front of the jail. As the disordered crowd moved up the
street, a group of riders--perhaps half a dozen--rounded a building
and came into the street at the far end. They moved forward and
were waiting in front of the jail when Cecil Bates arrived with his
prisoner. Bates lowered his gun and the crowd fell into silence as old
Sam Taber sat on a big black in front of his riders and surveyed the
scene.

       *       *       *       *       *

Sam Taber had that about him which signified authority even where no
authority was vested. He was the kind of man people stopped and looked
at. Slim, cold-faced, and gray-eyed, he had at once the manner of an
aristocrat and the wary attitude of one who had met suffering and
danger along the way and was on the alert for more.

After a full minute of silence, he asked coldly, "What is this?"

Bates said, "I'm arresting this man."

"Why?"

"For resisting me--an officer."

"Why did he resist you?"

"I went to his house to ask him some questions and--"

"And what?"

"He slugged me."

"What questions did you want to ask him?"

"About Biddy--his little girl."

"What did she do--rob the bank?"

Laughter bubbled in the crowd and Cecil Bates had a sudden helpless
feeling. "No, Sam. You see I was up real early this morning and--"

More laughter and someone remarked, "Glory be! He was up at dawn
looking for law-breakers."

"--I met Biddy Parker riding out on her burro."

Sam Taber waved an impatient hand. "I got the story--what there was of
it. One of my men brought it to me this morning. That's why I'm here."

"Then you'll back me up."

Sam Taber rifled a contemptuous look at Bates. "Put that popgun away.
You've got no more case than a jackrabbit. I'll ask the questions
around here."

The crowd was silent and Cecil Bates stood alone and the humiliation
was gall. He holstered his gun muttering, "You got no right to do this
Sam. You got no right to make me look foolish."

Taber probably did not hear the words. His eyes leveled over the crowd.
"Seems to me the little girl's story bears looking into. But you fools
have yourselves a picnic while this unknown man may be pointing all
hell at you from out in the ridges."

Bates snatched at the statement. "Say, Sam--you might have something
there. That's what I was trying to get at in the first place--"

Taber cut in. "Come on back to your place, Dan. I want to talk to you."

       *       *       *       *       *

The crowd melted away as Sam Taber and his silent riders moved toward
it. Sam Taber held the black in and rode beside Dan and Jane Parker as
the cavalcade moved up the street. Sam said, "I understand Biddy rode
off this morning."

Dan Parker said, "That's right. We were waiting for her to come home so
we could--" Dan shrugged. "Then that crazy crowd showed up."

Jane's hand tightened on Dan's arm. "She's home! There's Buck in the
corral. She's home, Dan!" And Jane was running on ahead....

"I won't tell you," Biddy said, firmly. She had now analyzed the
little fear she'd felt upon awakening that morning. Now she knew the
reason for it. With the inherent wisdom of childhood, she knew that
the grownups would not understand Joe--would not realize how wonderful
he was--better than Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, Hopalong Cassidy, and--yes
even than Davey Crockett all put together. They wouldn't understand
that at all, and the way grownups were, something bad would happen and
Joe would be hurt. "I won't tell you, where the cave is or anything
more about it."

       *       *       *       *       *

Dan's eyes mirrored annoyance and frustration. "Now listen here,
Biddy--I don't want any more of this nonsense--"

Jane put an arm around Biddy's shoulders and drew her close. "I think
she's right," Jane said quietly.

Dan flared in surprise. "Well of all the--"

Jane's eyes swept both her husband and old Sam Taber who was sitting
quietly on the teetery straight-backed chair, his gray eyes never
moving from Biddy. "I'm sick and ashamed at the way things have gone,"
Jane said. "Last night I saw my daughter come home and walk across this
room without need of the brace that had become the horror of my dreams.
I saw her made whole and beautiful by some miracle beyond my knowledge
and I wanted only to get down on my knees and thank God. I knew only
happiness all the long night and then I awoke to--" Jane swept her hand
hopelessly, "--to this. A snarling mob. A near murder. A town suddenly
filled with hate and a love of lawlessness. Biddy saw none of this and
yet she knows that this healer of hers--real or imaginary--would not
be thanked for what he did but probably murdered. She knows this and I
love her for it." Jane drew Biddy close. "Don't tell them, dear. Don't
ever tell them a thing."

Dan Parker stood open-mouthed at his wife's long declaration. Sam
Taber got to his feet and his eyes held only admiration. He said, "I
understand, Jane. And I agree with you it would be like turning a sheep
to a pack of wolves."

"Thank you."

Sam stood looking thoughtfully at his hat as he turned it slowly in
his fingers. "Just one thing," he said suddenly. "Would you mind if I
examined Biddy's leg?"

Jane was surprised at the sudden turn of his mind but she said, "No, of
course not, Sam."

Sam Taber dropped to his knees as Jane slipped off Biddy's little
slacks revealing a pair of tight white panties and two perfect legs.
Sam raised the left leg gently, like a holy relic and ran gentle
fingers down the straight, smooth surface. "The main damage was done
above the knee, wasn't it?" Sam asked.

"Yes, the muscles were pinched and destroyed. There was only the bone
left--and enough ligament to--"

"Davey's is that way too," Sam said. "But his goes even higher--into
the hip." Sam matched the legs gently together and muttered, "I'm
trying to believe. I'm trying so damned hard--"

"You shouldn't have to believe, Sam," Jane said.

He looked up at her dully. "No?"

"No, because Davey is your boy."

"Yes--that's true."

"And when one comes to the end of belief there is faith to carry one
further."

       *       *       *       *       *

Sam got slowly to his feet and now seemed suddenly weary. He spoke
softly as though to himself. "I should not need faith. After all,
I've put my finger in the wound--" He looked at Biddy with his
characteristic suddenness. "Biddy-baby--perhaps your friend in the
ridges--maybe he would--"

Sam stopped, floundering--suddenly out of his depth. All his life he
had been a proud man; never in his life had he asked anyone for a favor
and even though it was for Davey, he did not know the process of asking.

Perhaps he would have got the words out even then, but before Jane
could help him, another fear blocked the way--Dan Parker's fear. In
his mind he saw Davey whole and unbroken, riding the saddle Dan Parker
now rode. And while he hated his selfishness--recognized it for the
evil and the criminal weakness it was--he still instinctively blocked
the way--spoke the words that stopped Sam Taber's plea: "I think you'd
better lie down a while, young lady. Get some rest. You were out too
early this morning."

It was an inconsequential barrier, but enough to straighten Sam
Taber--bring his natural coldness to the surface--end his plea. He
turned toward the door. "You might as well take the rest of the day
off, Dan. Won't be much work done today anyhow. See you tomorrow
morning."

Then he was gone; into the black's saddle and leading his quiet riders
out of town.

They watched him from the door and Jane said, "That was cruel Dan. And
you did it on purpose. I know you did. A boy's life restored against
that miserable job of yours."

Dan Parker knew inwardly the shame of his weakness but he hid it behind
surliness. "Well, somebody's got to look out for Biddy. You'd be
perfectly willing to let things go to hell and then moan because there
was no food in the house. Somebody's got to be practical." Dan snatched
his hat and without another word headed for the tavern....

       *       *       *       *       *

Art Haney had never had it so good. He chuckled and took another swig
from the bottle Cecil Bates offered and thought by God it was about
time this town gave a poor blind man a break.

Cecil Bates leaned forward and took the bottle back. He didn't want
this old souse to get plastered and thus become useless. He said, "So
you met this guy out in the desert, eh, Haney?"

"Sure did. At least it was a stranger because I know every voice in
these parts. You see when a man's blind like I am, his sense of hearing
gets almighty sharp and you take notice--"

"Yeah, I know. Now he walked along with you and took you to the cave
he's got out there?"

"Nope--he didn't take me--well, not very far. I'm no slouch in getting
around even if I am blind and nobody ever helps me. I go out in them
ridges sometimes just to sort of hear the quiet sounds. You see a blind
man--"

"I know--I know. So you were out there and--"

"And he said hello. We got to talking--"

"What about?"

"Oh, just this and that. It was getting almighty hot and I asked him if
he could give a poor blind man a little something to drink."

"That was when he took you to the cave."

"Uh-huh. It was only about fifty feet from where I was. He took me
inside and gave me a swig of the damndest stuff you ever drank. Had a
kick to it, but not like any whiskey you ever drank."

Cecil pushed the bottle into his hand. "Try another belt of this."

Art was highly agreeable. He wiped the neck with a filthy hand and
said, "Thank you, Ceec. You're mighty good to a poor helpless blind
man."

Bates let him take a fairly long one, then retrieved the bottle. "And
you say you can show me the exact spot where this guy's cave is?"

"Sure can. Only--"

"Only what?" Bates scowled and pulled the bottle back as though to keep
from wasting any more good liquor.

"Only that it might be kind of rough on you. I'd have to walk it.
Wouldn't know where we was going if we drove. And a blind man taps
along pretty slow."

"Never mind that," Bates said grimly. "I'll tap right along with you.
I'd crawl across the Gila Desert to get that guy. I truly would, Art."

"All right then. Let's get started."

Cecil Bates grinned. He'd show old Sam Taber what the score was; who
was sheriff around here and who wasn't; who could go out and bring in a
criminal while everybody else talked about it....

       *       *       *       *       *

Davey Taber had special foot controls built into his jeep. This gave
him a great deal of freedom--access to all the roads roundabout and to
any part of the desert on which a jeep could travel.

Davey was a handsome youth with none of his father's characteristics of
leadership. He had a rather long sensitive face with eyes made dark and
beautiful from suffering. His hands were the slim delicate hands of an
artist.

He had driven off the Circle-7 toward Sage Bend but when he came within
a few miles of the town, he turned away from the road and into the
flat desert. There was a strange restless stirring inside him, a hope
that was almost akin to pain because he had heard the story of the
mysterious man in the ridges and of what had happened to Biddy Parker.
If he could only find the man--if the story were only true--if--There
were a dozen ifs bouncing through his mind as he wound aimlessly over
the hot expanses. If he could only--

He pushed down on the brake and came to a stop as he saw a spot across
the waste, his sharp eyes telling him what it was. A small flop-eared
burro and a little girl leading it.

Biddy Parker! Davey screamed the jeep into motion and headed in that
direction. As the intervening distance lessened; Biddy stopped and
waved a welcome.

The jeep came to a halt and Biddy ran toward it. "Look Davey! I can
walk! I can run!"

"I heard. Somebody came to the ranch this morning with the story. Dad
went into town."

"I saw him and he talked to me."

Davey's eyes asked the question. "What--?"

Biddy dropped her own eyes. "I--I wouldn't tell anybody where Joe's
cave is, Davey."

"Joe?"

"He's the man who fixed my leg. He comes from the sky bloc. He's a
wonderful man and I was afraid they meant to hurt him."

Davey had inherited one thing from his father. Pride, and now his face
fell as the hope died within him. "Oh, I see. Well, you were probably
right. There are some pretty crazy people around these parts. But I'm
glad you found him and got cured. It must be pretty nice to walk and
run again."

Biddy came quickly forward and laid a hand on Davey's arm. "I didn't
mean that I didn't want you to see Joe, Davey. In fact I talked to him
about you and he said he might be able to help you too."

The gratitude in Davey's face was eloquent. "He did?"

"Uh-huh. Joe is just wonderful. We'll go there tomorrow--just me and
you and Joe will fix your leg."

Biddy saw the disappointment her words brought. Davey said, "That would
be just wonderful."

"You see its quite a long way from here. I came in the opposite
direction on purpose in case anybody followed me. I didn't want to lead
them to Joe and now it's getting pretty late."

Davey glanced at the sun. "Uh-huh. Sun'll be down in fifteen minutes."

"And I've got to get home or Mom and Pop won't like it. They'll be
cross."

"Sure--a little kid like you shouldn't be out on the desert at night."

"I'll meet you tomorrow, though. Let's see, where--?"

"Any place you say, Biddy."

       *       *       *       *       *

Biddy thought it over very carefully, then suddenly bubbled with the
warmth that was a part of her nature. "Davey--we won't wait. We'll go
now. It will be way after dark when we get there because I can't leave
Buck and he can't go very fast on his short legs, but we'll go anyway
and see Joe tonight!"

Davey's hands trembled. "But what about your folks?"

Biddy shrugged. "Well, I'll be with you and you're an old person so
that ought to make it all right."

"Well--"

"Anyhow, let's worry about that later. You make the jeep go real slow
and I'll ride beside you. I can make Buck go faster that way."

"All right."

So the strange little cavalcade started slowly off across the desert.
Biddy prattled on as she rode the phlegmatic Buck beside the jeep and
Davey's heart sang a song within him, a crazy, ecstatic song: _We're
looking for Joe. We're riding over the night desert hunting for him.
And maybe we aren't the only ones. Maybe everybody in the world is
stumbling through the darkness looking for Joe._ What Davey's heart
was saying made little sense to his mind. But he did not question
its source. He was only twenty-one and not a wise philosopher so he
completely over-looked the wisdom of his instinct....

Cecil Bates sat in the Sage Bend tavern celebrating his luck and
preparing for his triumph. This preparation consisted of spreading the
word because his very nature demanded witnesses or there would be no
triumph at all.

"So you know where this foreign invader is, eh Ceec?"

"Sure do." Cecil emptied his shot glass and tapped his forehead with a
knowing finger. "Used my head. Used my head, I did."

"Old blind Haney led you right to the stop, huh?"

"Almost as close as I am to you. Now nobody'd think a blind man could
do a thing like that--nobody but a man who uses his head like I do."

"You sure are smart Ceec. You say you actually saw the machine he's
going to blow us up with?"

"Not us, I don't think. I think the rat's after our space station. Now
what better spot could they pick? Visibility clear as a bell out here--"

"Think he's from the Eastern Bloc, Ceec?"

"Course he is. Where else could he come from?"

       *       *       *       *       *

The voice of a more logical hanger-on came from somewhere in the
greatening group. "But it doesn't make sense to come over here to do
it. Too risky. They've got deserts over there--just as good visibility."

       *       *       *       *       *

Cecil was annoyed. Always some guy goofing things up. "Is that so? Well
listen to me. Just what in the hell do you know about the mechanics of
space-fire and locations and--and things? Seems to me you take a mighty
lenient view of things in general mister. It sure does."

"Gosh, Ceec--I didn't mean--"

"Then keep your trap shut." Cecil Bates glanced around. Plenty of
people here now. Quite a crowd. "Me--I'm going out and get him. I'll
have him back in town in an hour. We'll show those rats we got pretty
alert law around here."

"You going alone, Ceec?"

"Sure am." Bates got up and walked importantly toward the door. There,
he stopped and turned. "Course, if a body of citizens tagged along to
see how justice works, I guess there's nothing I could do about it." He
grinned and winked.

A shout of approval went up and last drinks were hurriedly slopped down
and additional quickies ordered. Then they followed Cecil Bates out
into the street, moving with drunken anticipation of excitement.

Loaded with the dynamite of irresponsibility.

They streamed out of town behind Cecil Bates' car, not stopping to get
other cars or mount horses for fear of being left behind. There was no
danger of that however. Bates was not eager to face the strange man in
the cave without some show of force in his wake so he traveled slowly
enough for all to follow....

       *       *       *       *       *

Dan and Jane Parker stood on their porch watching the town empty
out into the desert. Jane said, "Dan! You must do something.
They're--they're dangerous!"

Dan Parker frowned. "But it's not my job. Cecil Bates is the sheriff--"

"Bates is a slovenly, dishonest--_hoodlum_. You know that Dan. They'll
do something out there--"

"What? What will they do? Bates is just going out to arrest that man
for questioning and I think he's got a right to do it."

Jane Parker looked at her husband in new surprise. There was something
in her face that had never been there before. A look he would have done
well to heed. She said, "Dan--I just don't understand you any more.
This isn't you. There's an--an evil coming into you."

"That's nonsense. Just because I won't stick my nose into the sheriff's
business--"

"At least do this for me, Dan. Go out and tell Sam Taber what's
happening. If Sam refuses to act, then I'll be satisfied. But go and
tell him."

Dan Parker's mouth twisted in anger and helpless frustration. "So you
think Sam Taber's a better man than your husband? So you have more
respect for him than you have for me?"

"I'm afraid I do--at the moment." Jane spoke quietly and there was a
distant regard in her eyes. "Will you go, Dan? Or will I?"

"I forbid you to go kiting off across the desert--"

"You go, or I will."

"All right--I'll go."

Jane stood in the yard watching the tail light of the jeep fade off
toward the Circle-7. There was a stark misery in her heart--a bleak
unhappiness she had never before known. "It's not Dan--not Dan at all!"
she whispered fiercely. Then she ran back to the porch and sat down on
the steps and began to cry.

But not for long. She came erect suddenly. Biddy was not home yet!
She was out there in the desert. A drunken mob was moving out there
somewhere. With a choked cry, Jane Parker ran off into the night. After
a while she began calling--"Biddy--Biddy baby--where are you? Where are
you?"

But the stars were silent and the night was silent too....

       *       *       *       *       *

Joe had heard the sounds of the approaching crowd. He came from the
cave where he had just got the report of zero-minute two hours away and
waited in front of the cave. He looked up into the heavens from where,
very shortly, a small, dark ship would arc in and settle quietly down.

The headlights of the car leading the crowd cut two paths through the
night and he stepped out into their radiance. Instantly an unpleasant
voice barked, "You there! Stand still. Don't move. I've got you
covered."

From curiosity rather than fear, Joe remained where he was. The voice
and the harsh discordant vibrations from the crowd in the background
fascinated him. What sort of a demonstration was this? What strange
primitive motivations generated the black aura about these people?

A scowling figure emerged from the gloom and peered over his shoulder
into the cave. "What you got in there?"

"The equipment I brought with me."

"Where'd you bring it from?"

The mob was straining forward to hear and a baleful silence waited to
be broken by Joe's answer. "From the Galaxy--well, the Galaxy Capital I
suppose you'd call it."

"Where the hell's that?"

"I don't think you could understand if I told you."

"Is that so? Well, I'm not as stupid as you think, buster. You've snuck
in here from the East somewhere. You've been pretty damn clever, but no
Eastern fifth column is going to get a foothold in my territory. You
come along with me. You got some questions to answer."

An ugly tremor went through the crowd. It raced from drunk to drunk and
influenced even the sober. Fear mixed with panic.

"See that stuff in there?"

"Lousy Eastern fifth columnist."

"Brought his equipment with him."

"Bet it is something to blow up our space station just like they said."

Cecil Bates expanded under the reflection of these revelations. He'd
shown them all right. He'd brought them out here and shown them what
was going on and what he was going to do about it. He said, "All
right--come on you--into the car and right down to the jail house."

       *       *       *       *       *

As Joe hesitated, four men came out of the crowd. "You heard what he
said. Get going," and they laid rough hands on Joe and carried him
bodily away.

But they did not stop at the car. The raucous-voiced leader of the
group yelled, "Don't worry, Ceec. We'll get him there for you. Don't
need no car. We know where the jail is!"

The spark was touched off--the thought suggested--by a blurred voice
from the crowd. "We don't need no jail house. What we need's a rope!"

Laughter--ugly laughter--and other suggestions: "There's the tree by
Indian Head Rock. About big enough to hold a rat his size."

More drunken laughter but laced now with viciousness and excitement.
Shouts and curses rising into a steady roar. A lynch mob.

       *       *       *       *       *

Cecil Bates never quite knew how it happened. He made no resistance
because he lacked the courage and he was afraid to defend the prisoner.
After all, he rationalized--when he saw how things were going--these
were the people, the taxpayers, the hard core of the country. They had
an instinct for knowing when swift action was necessary. And by gosh,
when it was time, they acted!

But he realized these were only weak alibis for his own impotence
and that he was held helpless by his fear, his inner rottenness, his
lacking of stature as a man.

And when they took the stranger and hung him to the tree by Indian Head
Rock, Cecil Bates looked himself in the face for the first time in
his life and was sickened by what he saw. He screamed at himself--_do
something. For God's sake don't let this happen. That man hanging there
is you. When he dies you've come to the end of your rope too. But
there's still time. Do something. Stop them._

But the weakness he had nourished and fed within himself for so long
would not let him raise his voice or his gun. And he stood alone with
his sickness watching the body of the stranger twirl gently at the end
of the rope someone had brought along just in case....

       *       *       *       *       *

Sam Taber and his riders prowled the dark desert and the desert was
a big place after sundown. Finally he pulled up and said, "I can't
figure this thing out. Bates must have used a car. Why can't we see the
headlights?"

"Maybe he turned them out so as to slip up on the man in the dark."
This from one of the men in his group; men who obeyed orders and seldom
spoke.

"With the whole town and half the county tailing along behind him? I
think not."

A different voice: "There, boss. Look. See the glow?"

Sam's gray eyes pierced the night. "Sure. That's Bates. We swung in the
wrong direction. Should have gone to Sage Bend and started from there."

"The light's at Indian Head Rock."

"Let's go."

They swept across the desert, thundering up a dust cloud that hung
in the night behind them. Rode until sight of a terrible thing sent
a chill down Sam Taber's spine; sight of a man hanging from a rope
against the glare of a car's headlights; a silhouette of savagery that
killed the last faint hope in Sam Taber's breast; the last hope for a
crippled son.

Sam fought to control himself as he and his men rode silently, gently,
into the lighted circle. He struggled there in the saddle with the
red rage that tried to flare up from the stormy heart of him; the
uncontrollable anger he had fought all his life and thought he had
conquered. The mob was now looking at its handiwork in silence, each
member wishing himself somewhere else.

The roaring in Sam Taber's ears drowned this silence as he reined up
and one of his men rode close to the turning body. The man's hand went
out. He said, "Too late, boss. We're too late."

       *       *       *       *       *

Taber sat like a dead man for a full minute. Then his rage broke its
bounds and flooded out through his eyes and his throat across the
desert. "Take them!" he bellowed. "Take every last rotten mother's son
of them! Lash the swine down! Cut them to pieces!"

He stood up in his stirrups and bent forward and lashed out with his
quirt. Without question his riders went into action. Quirts rose and
fell, slashed and cut. Screams and bellows and curses arose on the dark
desert as the shadowy avengers moved into their bloody work.

The mob broke to run bellowing and screaming in all directions. There
was no leadership now, no courage to rally them for a stand against
their tormentors. The only thought was to get away from the slashing
quirts; to run off into the desert and hide like squealing rats in the
blackness of a safe hole. To find sanctuary.

But just in the middle of the terrible savagery, a cry went up from one
of the riders. "Hey. Over there! The boss! He's down!"

The riders turned from their work and converged upon the indicated spot
where Sam Taber hung limp in his saddle and was just ready to slip from
his mount's back. They spied him just in time.

Two of the riders cut skillfully in and caught the lolling body.
"What's wrong, boss? One of 'em get you?"

Taber's reply was tortured, throaty. "Heart. Heart's gone--bad.
Can't--breathe. Done--all done."

"We've got to get him to town--quick!"

So, as quickly as it had come the avenging force moved back into a
group and thundered away. Cecil Bates had got to his car during the
melee and rammed it in panic through the crowd and off into the desert.
The mob itself had melted like tallow in a blast furnace.

And now there was nothing--no one from the rising moon to see except
the still body of Joe hanging from the tree beside Indian Head Rock....

       *       *       *       *       *

Biddy Parker kicked a heel into Buck's flank and said, "Davey--the
light's gone out now. I wonder what it was. It wasn't the moon."

"No, the moon's coming up over there. Probably somebody parking in a
car and then they drove on."

"But we didn't see the lights move away."

"No. Well, you say we go right by there. Maybe we can find out."

"It's not very far. We'll be there soon."

The moon came up in desert splendor and the landscape brightened. The
rocks threw shadows and for all purposes it was the light of day.

Shadows of rocks. And another shadow as Biddy and Davey approached
the place. The shadow of--Biddy reached over and touched Davey's arm.
"Look--Davey! Do you see--?"

"I see it. A--a man! He's hanging from the tree there, Biddy. He's
killed himself--or somebody has--"

"But nobody is around. I wonder who it is." Biddy's heels beat a
veritable tattoo on Buck's little flanks and the burro went into
a reluctant trot. Closer they came, closer, until Biddy cried,
"Davey--Davey--it's Joe hanging there!"

"You mean the man we're going to find?"

"Yes--yes. He's dead! Davey--somebody did this. Joe would never--"

"That's not important now. See if it's too late!"

Biddy slid off Buck and ran to the tree. She could just reach the waist
of the hanging figure. She began to cry and turned a streaming face to
Davey. "I--I can't help him! I can't even reach! There's nothing I can
do!"

"And I'm helpless too!" Davey had tears in his eyes too--tears of anger
as he reached for his two canes and tried to struggle from the jeep.

"You can't, Davey! You'll hurt yourself!"

Davey stopped. "Wait a minute, Biddy. Do you think you could climb the
tree and go out on the limb and cut the rope?"

"I haven't got any knife."

"I have. Here--do you want to try?"

"I can do it."

"You'll have to hurry. Every second may be important."

"He'll hurt himself falling maybe."

"Skin up that tree. I'll swing the jeep around under him. It will break
the fall and then we'll take him to a doctor. Hurry."

Davey backed the jeep in under the body while Biddy climbed resolutely
carrying the knife between her teeth. She got a little dizzy but she
closed her eyes and when she had wriggled far enough out on the limb,
she cut at the rope until it separated.

At that moment, two things happened. The body fell heavily into
the back seat of the jeep and the car itself went completely dead.
The motor died, the lights faded slowly and the glow of the moon
illuminated the scene.

As Biddy climbed down from the tree, Davey kicked again and again at
the starter. There was no sign of life in the battery. Biddy came to
the car and Davey stared at her blankly. "Something happened to the
car. Even the starter won't turn over."

"Try--try again!"

Davey pressed the pedal and finally gave up. "It's no use. The crate's
letting us down when we need it most."

"Then we've got to use Buck. We've got to get Joe to where he can get
help."

"But--but he's dead."

"No! No! Joe can't die. We've got to take him back to the cave!"

"Why there?"

"I don't know. I just know that's where he'd want to go and we've got
to get him there."

"I suppose it's the best place. Nobody in Sage Bend would help him I'll
bet. They're--"

"We've got to get him on Buck."

"You'll have to go alone. I can't walk fast enough."

"You can ride Buck too. Pop says a burro is one of the strongest
animals there is. And it isn't far. Hurry. You've got to help me."

       *       *       *       *       *

Somehow they pulled and tugged the body onto the back of the sleepy
burro. Then Davey clambered on, balancing precariously on the animal's
hips. Biddy took the reins and pulled Buck into movement and the
strange cavalcade moved off across the desert.

Half an hour later, Biddy cried, "There's the cave and some people are
there. And they've got lights."

Davey was craning his neck. "Look--look at that funny looking thing.
It's--it's a ship of some kind."

As they crawled slowly up the hill toward the rocks, they saw great
activity. There were half a dozen young men moving from the strange
ship into the cave and back again. As Buck came into the circle of
light, two of the men came forward.

They gave the body hanging limply over Buck's back their entire
attention. They spoke to each other in some strange language and then
the rest of the group were crowding about.

"We found him hanging from a tree," Biddy said a little fearfully, but
they paid no attention to her.

They lifted the body from the burro and held it partially erect. After
a short conference one of the men hurried to the ship and returned with
a small tube that somewhat resembled a fire extinguisher. He pointed
it at Joe's chest and pressed a button and a thin blue flame crackled
as it seemed to penetrate the flesh.

In a matter of seconds, Joe coughed, opened his eyes, and was standing
without help. One of the men, frowning slightly, snapped a question in
the strange language. He spoke at the same moment Biddy ran forward
and cried, "Oh, Joe! You're all right. You aren't dead! We found you
hanging there but I knew you were still alive. I just knew it!"

       *       *       *       *       *

Joe smiled at her and laid a hand on her head. He ignored the other
men, giving Biddy his attention as he said, "I'm a lot harder to kill
than you would imagine."

Davey had struggled forward on his crutches. He said, "But how on earth
could you have lived? That strangling rope around your neck--"

"I suppose this is Davey," Joe said.

"That's right," Biddy assured him. "We were out looking for you."

"As a matter of fact, Davey, the rope didn't hurt me at all. It was
something else. I was knocked out completely by the chaotic vibrations
flowing from the crowd that hung me to that tree. I'd have come around
soon."

"You mean they--lynched you?"

"If that's the term."

The young man who had spoken would not be put off. He was respectful
but insistent as he said, "We threw out the power block. It has been in
effect for almost an hour. The time has come for you to speak and then
we must take off."

For some reason he had spoken in English and Joe answered in kind. "All
right. Let's get it over with."

Another of the young men said, "You don't seem very optimistic about
it."

Joe's face was grave. "I'm not. I've learned a few things since I set
down here." He turned to Biddy and Davey. "Would you like to come
inside?"

       *       *       *       *       *

He accompanied his pace to that of Davey and when they were inside he
seated them near the shining box and then took his own seat in front
of the control panel. And while the others stood back with their arms
folded, he turned several dials and then spoke into a screened speaker
in the machine.

"People of the world--for the last hour your planet has not been
functioning. All mechanical means of transportation has been at a
standstill. Your electric currents from pole to pole have ceased
their flow. Your homes have been dark. This inaction stems from a
force-barrier we have thrown up around your planet. As a result, your
generators have stopped producing electricity--"

Wide-eyed, Davey whispered to Biddy. "That was why the jeep's motor
died."

Biddy's eyes were like saucers as she nodded--not understanding, but
fascinated by Joe and his cold, grim manner. He went on. "This was done
for two reasons--to demonstrate a small segment of our power, and to
bring you to your receiving sets. They are no doubt all turned on as
you wait for their silence to be broken."

Joe rubbed an unconscious hand across his throat and paused for a
moment. "I am breaking that silence now. I represent a council of
planets beyond your solar system and I have been sent here to give
you an ultimatum. We have watched you for a long time--watched with
sympathy and complete good will as you struggled upward through your
evolutionary periods. We liked much of what we saw, sympathizing with
you in your mistakes and rejoicing with you in your successes.

"Then we saw your scientific development outstrip your moral
advancement and your sense of responsibility. We watched you fight in
caves with clubs and stones--with bows and arrows--with gun powder and
atomic fission. And always we hoped your hostility would give way to
common sense and mutual respect if not mutual love.

"But this did not happen. Each new discovery you made was qualified
through a single question: How many more will it kill at a time? You
moved out into space with your man-made stations and we hoped that
finally you would awaken and your hostilities fade into history."

Joe's face was sad under its grimness as he paused to choose his words
and tension rang through the cave. "But no--you ran true to your basic
hateful pattern. You fought in your caves and on your seas and in your
seas--on your land and under your land. And now you propose to carry
your stupid useless wars out into space. I have come to tell you that
this, you will not do.

"Up to this point, you have endangered only yourselves but now the
balance of the galaxy can be tipped by your madness and this we will
not tolerate. I care not who is right or who is wrong in your disputes.
I do not look upon you as a divided world, I look upon you as a single
indivisible planet and looking thus--this I say to you."

       *       *       *       *       *

Joe took a deep breath and plunged grimly on. "If one of your space
stations attacks the other for any reason whatsoever, both will be
destroyed. And in this destruction your planet will also vanish. It
will be obliterated completely as we have no intention of leaving
a dangerous dead hulk floating through space. It and you and
possibly your whole solar system will go at once because--no matter
what your opinions on the subject are, let me tell you this--_you
are expendable--your planet is expendable--your solar system is
expendable--and on the day after obliteration--you will not even be
missed_."

Joe turned in his chair and Biddy thought he looked awfully tired.
Then he said, "And now if you have any doubts go out, wherever you
are, and look up into the blessed skies God gave you--" Biddy watched
the sadness in Joe's eyes and heard him speak as though to children.
"--the skies we will take away from you unless you grow up and behave
yourselves."

With that, he snapped off a switch with a quick movement and turned.
He said, "Go outside and ready the ship for takeoff. You go with them,
Biddy." He looked at Davey and added, "Leave the lad with me for a few
minutes."

Joe's instructions were not questioned and a few moments later she was
outside with the young men gazing in wonder at the sky. Everything
was lighted up like the Fourth of July. But bigger--much bigger. From
every horizon giant lights of all colors were shooting up to meet
overhead. All the colors of the rainbow and some Biddy had never seen.
"It's--it's beautiful!" she gasped.

One of the young men smiled without humor. "Let's hope a second display
is never necessary." With that he hurried away with the others and
there was great activity around the ship. Then Joe came out--just as
the colors overhead were dying--and gave a signal and the men entered
the cave. Pretty soon they came out and all the mechanism and the
big shining box were floating along behind them--floating through the
air--as they were pulled toward the ship by thin lines of metal rope.

In no time Joe was walking with Biddy toward the loaded ship, holding
her small hand in his. He stood by the port and said, "I think maybe
things will be all right, child. I hope so, because there must be many
like you and Davey. There must be sane reason left on this mad planet."

"Are you going away, Joe?"

"Yes, Biddy." He smiled and kissed her and said, "Tell Buck good-bye
for me. Davey is in the cave." He entered the ship and the port
closed and Biddy didn't see it take off at all. It just seemed to
evaporate--to vanish. But then, her eyes were misty with tears and
she thought she might have missed the take off. She turned and walked
slowly toward the cave. Slowly because she knew of course that Davey
would be all right....

       *       *       *       *       *

Davey Taber stood on two fine straight legs in the Parker living room
looking out the window over a silent, subdued Sage Bend. He turned and
said, "Dad will have to be very careful from now on. He will be in
bed for a long time and then in a wheelchair, so I'm taking over the
Circle-7."

"I'm sorry about your father," Jane said. "I'm sorry for the people,
for--" she glanced at Dan Parker seated beside her and no more words
would come.

"I want you to stay on, Mr. Parker. In fact I want you to take more
responsibility. I'll need a wise experienced head and I'm afraid I'd be
lost without you."

"Wait a minute," Dan said quietly. "There are some things I have to
tell you--some things you've got to know so you'll understand why I
can't stay at the Circle-7."

And while Davey listened in silence, Dan told the whole story of his
fears and actions and weaknesses. He did not spare himself and the
telling took quite a while. When he finished there was silence. And
something more. Jane's hand had crept toward his and now she held it
tight and smiled proudly as she looked into his eyes.

Davey regarded them in silence for a few moments, then spoke quietly
but without smiling. "That's all you have to say?"

"That's all."

"I asked because I want it over and done with--and forgotten here and
now. I'll expect you at the ranch in the morning. I have other plans,
too. We'll build you a house out there so you won't have to run back
and forth. Dad should have done that long ago."

Dan said, "But--"

"But nothing." Davey smiled now--at Biddy. "I've got an ulterior
motive. I want Biddy around all the time because we've got a lot of
talking to do."

Biddy smiled back. "About Joe."

"That's right. About Joe."


                                THE END





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