getting food?"

There were a few hands raised--pitifully few. Arthur saw Estelle's
hand up.

"Very well," he said. "Those of you who raised your hands then
come with me up on the second floor and we'll talk it over.
The rest of you try to conquer your fright, and don't go outside
for a while. We've got some things to attend to before it will
be quite safe for you to venture out. And keep away from the
restaurant. There are armed guards over that food. Before we pass
it out indiscriminately, we'll see to it there's more for to-morrow
and the next day."

He stepped down from the counter and moved toward the stairway. It
was not worth while to use the elevator for the ride of only one
floor. Estelle managed to join him, and they mounted the steps
together.

"Do you think we'll pull through all right?" she asked quietly.

"We've got to!" Arthur told her, setting his chin firmly. "We've
simply got to."

The gray-haired president of the bank was waiting for them at the
top of the stairs.

"My name is Van Deventer," he said, shaking hands with Arthur,
who gave his own name.

"Where shall our emergency council sit?" he asked.

"The bank has a board room right over the safety vault. I dare say we
can accommodate everybody there--everybody in the council, anyway."

Arthur followed into the board-room, and the others trooped in
after him.

"I'm just assuming temporary leadership," Arthur explained, "because
it's imperative some things be done at once. Later on we can talk
about electing officials to direct our activities. Right now we
need food. How many of you can shoot?"

About a quarter of the hands were raised. Estelle's was among
the number.

"And how many are fishermen?"

A few more went up.

"What do the rest of you do?"

There was a chorus of "gardener," "I have a garden in my yard,"
"I grow peaches in New Jersey," and three men confessed that they
raised chickens as a hobby.

"We'll want you gardeners in a little while. Don't go yet. But the
most important are huntsmen and fishermen. Have any of you weapons
in your offices?"

A number had revolvers, but only one man had a shotgun and shells.

"I was going on my vacation this afternoon straight from the office,"
he explained, "and have all my vacation tackle."

"Good man!" Arthur exclaimed. "You'll go after the heavy game."

"With a shotgun?" the sportsman asked, aghast.

"If you get close to them a shotgun will do as well as anything,
and