or one that makes
better sense than the one we've got I'd like to know about it."

It snowed heavily that afternoon out of a bitter, leaden sky. It started
in the midst of the morning service, and by the time the congregation
dispersed it was difficult to see a block away.

There was little comment about what they had heard, among the people
leaving the church. They walked with heads bowed against the snow toward
their cold homes and sparsely filled pantries.

The community chapel was near the edge of town. One of the boundary
fences lay only two blocks away. From that direction, as the crowd
dispersed, there came the sudden sound of a shot. It was muffled under
the heavy skies and the dense snow, but there was no mistaking the
sound.

Ken jerked his head sharply. "That must have been one of the guards!" he
said. His father nodded. Together, they raced in the direction of the
sound. Others began running, too, their hearts pounding in anticipation
of some crisis that might settle the unanswered questions.

Ken noticed ahead of them, through the veil of snow, the chunky figure
of Mayor Hilliard running as rapidly as he could. As they came to the
fence they saw the guard standing on one side, his rifle lowered and
ready. On the other side of the barbed-wire enclosure was a stout,
middle-aged man. He wore an overcoat, but there was no hat on his head.
His face was drawn with agony and uncomprehending despair.

He staggered on his feet as he pleaded in a tired voice. "You've got to
let me come in. I've walked all the way in this blizzard. I haven't had
any food for two days."

A group of churchgoers lined the fence now, additional ones coming up
slowly, almost reluctantly, but knowing they had to witness what was
about to take place. Ken exclaimed hoarsely to his father, "That's Sam
Baker! He runs the drugstore and newsstand in Frederick. Everybody in
Mayfield knows Sam Baker!"

Sam Baker turned in bewildered, helpless pleading to the crowd lined on
the other side of the fence. Mayor Hilliard stood back a dozen yards
from the wire.

"You've got to help me," Sam Baker begged. "You can't make me go back
all that way. It's 50 miles. There's nothing there. They're all dead or
lost in the snow. Give me something to eat, please..."

"You've got to move on," the guard said mechanically. "Nobody gets in.
That's the law here."

Along the fence, people pressed close, and one or two men started
hesitantly to climb. Mayor