y," Donlup defended. "He
simply blew up without any warning at all. The Dean of Women at
Mentioch tells me that Dr. Long has never had a word of criticism from
his department head. I suppose we had better remove him from his
position at once, eh?"

Madame Secretary Bogarth shook her head. "That's not enough. This calls
for liquidation. I want a special squad on this one." She began writing
names on a sheet of paper, names of some of the most effective
unscrupulous yet faithful operators in the party's top echelon.

She handed it to Donlup. "This man is dangerous. He could force us into
open control of the press and higher education. Get these people here
not later than tomorrow. We can't waste time."

"Yes, Madame Secretary," Donlup saluted with a full bow and went to
work.

* * * * *

The following afternoon Emily Bogarth faced the squad with its
brilliant, green-eyed leader. She told them their mission and then
dismissed all but one. "I'm sorry to hand this one to you. I know what a
promising career you had before you. But this man is deadly to our
purpose. Believe me, I am not wasting your special aptitudes."

"If it's for the good of the Party--"

"Dr. Hubert Long is a lighted fuse," Emily Bogarth said, her cold eyes
hard on her operator, "that could blow the Humanist movement sky-high. I
want you to snuff out that fuse." She squeezed a forefinger against her
spatulate thumb.

The operator nodded and the green eyes flashed with the same fanatic
spark that electrified American politics at the turn of the 21st century
and launched the Humanist Party into its 30-year tenure of power.

* * * * *

At first only a shocked, embarrassed silence greeted Dr. Long on the
campus of Mentioch University, but as the press notices of his
utterances grew in volume so did his prestige.

He began to have a number of local visitors who evinced sharp interest
in his views. At the end of the first week he was holding forth each
evening to a sizable audience in his tiny bungalow on the edge of
faculty row.

By nature a careful, practical man, Hubert Long now carried a small
pistol in his coat pocket, but being also a fearless, independent
individual, he admitted all callers and exposed himself daily to the
public. It wasn't entirely personal bravado, however. He knew from his
years of intense, discreet research that the goon squads rarely made
their attacks in t