ld come after him again and again. All he had done
was involve this lovely woman. Long since he had controlled fear for his
own life, but now he knew the exquisite torment of fearing for the woman
he loved.

The emotion was genuine and no less raging for its swift eruption in the
space of a single evening. Dr. Hubert Long was hopelessly and deeply in
love with Julie Stone.

"Quit worrying," she called back to him. "They couldn't have spotted my
car. I parked it a block from your house, remember?"

"I hope you have a plan," Long muttered. "I certainly don't. Where are
we heading?"

"Florida. To my brother's winter place. You know, I just had a thought.
Tom and I are both on the board of regents of Toppinhout College down
there, and there'll be an opening next quarter in the faculty. A
professorship, in fact."

Long grunted. "No dice. They'll have every political scientist in the
country under scrutiny for years."

"This is the chair of anthropology," she said. "We can change your name,
and after this first excitement of your disappearance dies down--"

"But I don't want it to die down!" he objected.

"I thought we settled that. You've got to stay alive to talk to
important people. Tom and I will round them up secretly, and you can
present your case to them. My brother is the senior Senator, you know,
and he's been itching to bolt the Humanist Party for the last two
terms."

"What can I accomplish in secret conferences? The people are the ones
who must be aroused."

"I know, I know, from a soapbox in Times Square, I suppose. Darling, you
can't accomplish this alone. They've proved they are willing to take the
chance of killing you, so they must be stronger than you think. Your
facts must come to the attention of the right people. Over a period of
time we can organize a truly effective underground."

"Toppinhout is a girls' college."

"So?"

"I've never taught anthropology before."

"You've never been married before, either," she pointed out, "but I
predict you'll be a success at both."

"Married?" Long popped his head up.

* * * * *

She smiled at him in the rear-view mirror. "Get your head down before
you get it blown off. Yes, I said married. I'm not trusting that
pug-ugly, beautiful mug of yours out of my sight from now on. And I'm
afraid Tom will shoot you himself if you don't make it conventional.
Tom's old-fashioned."

"But--I couldn't support you on--"

"A f