ould do about it! He couldn't even
tell the authorities about this depraved character! They wouldn't
believe him unless he could get his other self on the telephone to admit
his criminality. Even then, what could they do?

Sam felt what little zest had been left in living go trickling out of
his climbers. He looked into the future and saw nothing desirable in it.

He painstakingly finished the repair of the shot-out telephone line, but
then he went down to his truck and drove over to Rosie's house.

There was but one thing he could do.

* * * * *

Rosie came suspiciously to the the door.

"I come to tell you good-by, Rosie," said Sam. "I just found out I'm a
criminal, so I aim to go and commit my crimes far away from my home and
the friends who never thought I'd turn out this way. Good-by, Rosie."

"Sam!" said Rosie. "What's happened now?"

He told her about the bank robbery and how his own self--in the week
after next--had known it was going to happen, and told Sam to go watch
it without giving him information by which it could have been stopped.

"He knew it after it happened," said Sam bitterly, "and he could've told
me about it before! He didn't, so he's a accessory to the crime. And he
is me, which makes me a accessory, too. Good-by, Rosie, my own true
love! You'll never see me again!"

"You set right down here," Rosie ordered firmly. "You haven't done a
thing yet, so it's that other you who's a criminal. You haven't got a
thing to run away for!"

"But I'm going to have! I'm doomed to be a criminal! It's that me in the
week after next! There's nothing to be done!"

"Says who? _I'm_ going to do something!"

"Like what?" asked Sam.

"I'm going to reform you," said Rosie, "before you start!"

* * * * *

She was a determined girl, that Rosie. She marched inside and put on her
blue jeans, then went to her father's woodshed where he kept his tools
and got a monkey wrench and stuck it in her hip pocket.

When she came to the truck, Sam said, "What's the idea, Rosie?"

"I'm riding around with you," replied Rosie, with a grim air. "You won't
do anything criminal with me on hand! And if that other you starts
talking to you on the telephone, I'm going to climb that pole and tell
him where he gets off!"

"If anybody could keep me from turning criminal," acknowledged Sam,
"it'd be you, Rosie. But that monkey wrench--what's it for?"

Rosie clim