he had to try something--to make at least a forlorn effort. And
now, from certain beliefs that he had, coupled with some vague
observations that he had made during the last hour, a tattered
suggestion of what form that effort might take, came to him.

As for his personal defects that had given him trouble in the
past--well--he was lugubriously sure that he had learned a final lesson
about liquor. For him it always meant trouble. As for wanderlust, and
the gambling and hell-raising urge--he had been willing to stay put on
Vesta, named for the goddess of home, for weeks, now. And he was now
about to make his last great gamble. If he lost, he wouldn't be alive to
gamble again. If, by great good-fortune, he won--well he was certain
that all the charm of unnecessary chance-taking would, by the memory of
these awful moments, be forever poisoned in him.

Now Rose and the youngsters came hurrying toward him.

"Back so soon, Johnny?" Rose called. "What's this? What happened?"

"Who's the guy, Pop?" Evelyn asked. "Oh--Baloney Nose.... What are you
doing with him?"

But by then they all had guessed some of the tense mood, and its
probable meaning.

"Neely's pals are coming, Honey," Endlich said quietly. "It's the
showdown. Hide the kids. And yourself. Quick. Under the house, maybe."

Rose's pale eyes met his. They were comprehending, they were worried,
but they were cool. He could see that she didn't want to leave him.

Evelyn looked as though she might begin to whimper; but her small jaw
hardened.

Bubs' lower lip trembled. But he said valiantly: "I'll get the guns,
Pop, I'm stayin' with yuh."

"No you're not, son," John Endlich answered. "Get going. Orders. Get the
guns to keep with you--to watch out for Mom and Sis."

Rose took the kids away with her, without a word. Endlich wondered how
to describe what was maybe her last look at him. There were no fancy
words in his mind. Just Love. And deep concern.

Alf Neely was showing signs of returning consciousness. Which was good.
Still dragging him, Endlich went and got a bushel basket. It was filled
to the brim with ripe, red tomatoes, but he could carry its tiny weight
on the palm of one hand, scarcely noticing that it was there.

For an instant Endlich scanned the sky, through the clear plastic roof
of the great bubble. He saw at least a score of shapes in space armor,
arcing nearer--specks in human form, glowing with reflected sunlight,
like little hurtling moons